


Changes

by Nightwave_Box



Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: #cruelcorey, :(, Angst, Anxiety, Attempt At Fixing Relationship, Biting, Blood, Blood Drinking, Bruises, Cuddling, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fear, Fluff, Forced, Gay, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Jealousy, M/M, Mental Breakdown, My Main Fic, Panic Attack, Rape/Non-con Elements, Unhealthy Relationships, Vomiting, corey is whacko, corey taylor is a jerk, i called soda "pop" and i felt real proud of that cuz pop is such a cute word, joey is tiny, paul is like a really good friend, will add more tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-05-07 13:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19210054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightwave_Box/pseuds/Nightwave_Box
Summary: Joey is left to accept the fact that Corey isn't the one for him.Corey's outbreaks, yelling and insults are sometimes too much for him to take, but he endures it. He's too afraid to speak up- When he does, well, Corey doesn't appreciate it.Mick watches as Joey's world falls apart and it's up to him to show Joey how relationships are supposed to work- without the abusing, shouting and the constant mental abuse.That is, if he can muster up the courage to act on that- the fear of hurting Joey instead of helping him following behind Mick every step of the way.





	1. im sad pt1: Mic Dropped

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second fic!! I tried to get it done as soon as possible so that I could put SOMETHING on here.  
> I'll try very hard to publish many more chapters, depending on how many people like the story and how long it drags on!  
> It was very hard to make Corey a jerk because I really ship Corey and Joey, but I made up for it with Joey/Mick <3  
> Also I think the song The Virus of Life seemed to fit-- It's from Volume 3 and I randomly chose it because it was in my Spotify playlist- then I looked at the lyrics and it kind of seemed to fit!  
> I don't know ;w;;  
> Also--- I titled this "im sad" just as a name to tell it apart from the others I'm working on, and I referred it to that while telling my friends about it and stuff so it seemed kind of right to add it there. :>  
> also im not very experienced at writing band related things so if I get a few things wrong or inaccurate im sorry

Backstage and behind the mass of the crowd's view was where the band had been located, preparing for the concert to come. Joey was certainly the most nervous one of the nine, never seeming to get used to the life of performing. Although he loved each and every one of his fans and maggots with all of his heart, and to show this he'd play as hard as he could for them all to somehow thank them for coming and supporting Slipknot and their journey, he could not handle the mass of people all at once. 

He'd try to get lost in his set and to focus on what drums to hit and the rhythm of the instrument- the constant small taps, quick loud ones and the high pitched crashing of the cymbals that would stand out from the rest of the noises during songs. Watching the others jump around and headbang would also calm his nerves, so he joined in too the best that he could as he played.

Joey sat uneasily on one of the benches, his nerves peaked and unable to relax. His entire body felt tense, shoulders tight as his head seemed to be on loose hinges from his neck because he couldn't seem to raise it from looking down. He peeked up from under his eyelids to watch the other members scatter through the large area in the room and get ready in their own ways while he sat and prepared himself mentally for what was to come. 

Craig had been going through his laptop to double check his samples to verify that everything was in order as he sat cross legged on the bench across from Joey. Beside the sampler, Jim had taken an interest as he peered down at the computer while leaning against the white wall behind them. 

Mick had been doing his stretches and maneuvers with his weights as Joey caught his eyes. Immediately, Mick turned in the other direction, tearing his eyes away from under his threatening mask to face away from the drummer. It confused Joey the slightest, but he brushed it off as Mick being distant from him as usual. 

Beside Paul who was leaning against the wall and drinking through a bottle of water by sips by lifting his mask, watching the others as Joey had been, Shawn and Corey were chatting. It seemed like Corey didn't have the time to even say hi to Joey anymore, but he'd surely talk to the rest of the boys for hours if he could. Corey smiled, his mouth still moving. Joey looked away.

From across the hallway, Joey spotted Sid leaping onto Chris's back to casually walk through the hall, they would always act silly before concerts, it was like a tradition. They really were something else. 

He wished that he and Corey could be that happy again, how they were before when the relationship was fresh, new and something special. It was quite dim now, no longer as bright as it had been previously.

They'd do the exact same things Chris and Sid would do-- Of course, at a moderate level because those two were uncontrollable together. Play fight, be around each other at all times, minus the kissing, obviously. Joey wished they'd get together already so that he and Corey wouldn't be the sore thumb of the bunch, it'd be somewhat normalized if there were two couples instead of just one. Then they'd get less stares. 

They'd received many stares back then, when Joey openly expressed himself around Corey, no longer ashamed of liking men and making it blatantly visible whenever he and Corey would make out in the living room of the tour bus.

Often, he felt as if he didn't belong in the band at some occasional points where they'd all distance themselves from him because he wasn't like them all. He didn't drink until he passed out, he didn't party as hard as they did, he was against drugs after recovering years ago and he wasn't even into women which was a large difference separating him from the rest. There was nothing he could connect to. Mick seemed to express that distance quite well, avoiding situations of conversation between himself and Joey-- it wasn't very hard to notice for him. 

Unlike Mick, Joey believed that Corey was fine with him not liking the same things that the rest did. Although, he accepted Joey's quirks but in return, Joey accepted his. It only seemed fair.  
Corey drank excessively, he partied too hard and would be a wasted mess afterwards, drugs were used and he additionally enjoyed the presence and appearance of women, a little too much, despite the fact that he was in a relationship with Joey. It had spiraled out of control before Joey could stop it from leading down that path. It was impossible for him to push order and construction onto Corey, not even at least minor rules and restrictions that would keep their relationship tight such as, rule number one, don't fool around.

Craig had warned him about keeping Corey close, because he'd eventually find his way into someone else's arms like a moth attracted to a lamp as if it was instinctive. He couldn't sustain relationships or keep up with them, but Joey had hope that he'd be the one person to change that cycle. He'd always deny when someone said their relationship wasn't good or even relatively healthy. He told himself occasionally that it was all okay, that it was only normal and that he absolutely couldn't hold Corey down because he loved him too much. He'd just get in the way of Corey's personal life and success and that would hurt him even more than to interfere and stop the problem.

Deep inside his cracked heart that only held itself together for Corey, he'd already acknowledged long ago that their relationship was in ruins. He just didn't have the mind or the guts to leave Corey himself. He would sometimes hope that Corey would just approach him one day in front of everyone and tell him that their already fading ties was finally extinguished, the flames would be put out before any more destruction could be done. Joey wouldn't cry and he'd hear the collective sigh of relief from the room, his pain he kept inside would be diminished along with the relationship, as it should've been so long ago. It hurt too much to think about it though. It'd never happen.

Joey's vision began to blur as his thoughts lingered on the mind-shattering topic of being so unhappy with his relationship that he wished Corey would break up with him because he was too afraid to do it himself. Corey would just lash out anyway and call him selfish if he spoke up. 

He didn't have his mask on yet, he didn't even take it out of its case because his mind was too occupied to act on anything. It sat beside him on the bench. He almost didn't want to even open the case as if it was Pandora's box, the possibility of messing up on stage too strong. It was like the presence of the case alone told him that the stage was bad and that it'd give an open opportunity for mistakes during the show, it just gave him threatening anxiety.

He asked himself why he feared making errors and mistakes to determine the root cause of this overwhelming feeling.

It was because Corey didn't like mistakes. 

Which is why he'd avoid making them at all costs.

While Joey's mind phased out and went blank as he stared down at his shoes, Mick took notice of his blank expression, looking almost lost in more ways than only in thought. He set his weights down on one of the benches to ask if he was okay, but he did not want to mess up either, so he was hesitant.

Paul approached Joey before he could. 

Something inside of him felt annoyed at that, but also relieved. 

He trusted that Paul would give Joey the help that he couldn't provide.

 

"Hey, Joey. You feeling alright?" asked Paul, who now held another water bottle in his hand. He stood next to Joey instead of taking a seat beside him because the mask's case prevented him from doing so. 

Joey blinked a few times and looked up at Paul, snapping out of his short daze. "Oh uh, yeah, I'm okay." He inhaled then exhaled deeply through his nostrils to recompose himself for the small conversation he wasn't expecting. 

The bassist put his large hand on Joey's shoulder comfortingly. "Nervous?" It was normal for Joey to feel uneasy before concerts, so Paul seemed to take it lightly.  
Joey simply nodded in response. He didn't formally tell anyone upfront that he was, he knew they could already tell. He truly hoped that nobody could see that Corey was the reason.  
Paul offered softly, "Here, drink some so you have a little something in your stomach. You puked it all out earlier, I heard." He lowered the wet bottle of water so that it was in Joey's near reach. He really did care for the little drummer, this was the least he could do. Joey truly did appreciate his attempt.

"Thanks, Paulie…" Joey gave him a smile to show his gratitude as he took the bottle. Paul gave him a small one back as Joey began to unscrew the blue cap. He didn't notice how dehydrated he was until he brought the liquid to his lips, feeling it enter his mouth, it was like he didn't drink water in days. He thirstily gulped down half of the recently opened bottle with ease, thankful that his friend was there to support him.

"Don't worry about the show too much, alright? You'll kill it out there, as you always do. There's nothing to be afraid of," Paul assured in a soft tone. He gave Joey's back a friendly pat, earning another smile from the drummer. "You should get your gear on now so you're not rushing later."

"Alright, I'll try my best. Thank you so much, Paul. It really means a lot." Joey sincerely lightened up and showed that through another smile, Paul returning it again. He got up from his seat and picked up his mask's protective case to make his way to the changing rooms. Paul was right, he'd only be more stressed if he didn't start getting ready presently. He was small next to the bassist, looking up at him gratefully.

Before Joey began his walk to the changing rooms, Paul ruffled his long hair and walked off with a, "Good luck out there, Jo!"  
Joey stood there for a few moments and yelled back, "You too!" He watched as Paul traveled towards Mick who seemed annoyed to see the other man approach him. Joey now began his walk towards the rooms across the hall.

He was so short compared to everyone else to the point where just being beside them felt like either an insult or another reason to be ashamed of his height.  
He didn't care most of the time though it wasn't an issue, unless someone teased or brought it up to his face that he was tiny, his defenses would raise immediately.  
In the corner of his eye, Corey advanced towards him with a grin. His eyes flicked towards him, so he turned towards his boyfriend with the smallest smile.

He already had his mask on, its disgusting details of stitches, engravings and marks detailed on the surface seeming threatening up close. Black paint adorned his face behind the mask, raven colored lips curling at the ends. His colorful hair was damp with sweat as it fell in curls onto his shoulders. Joey's hair was beginning to dampen as well, it was so humid. 

He tried not to tense in front of Corey.

"Hey, babe. We're up soon, so get ready quick 'cause we're not waiting for ya!" He gave Joey a play punch in his arm that seemed a little too hard because it knocked him back the slightest. Joey only laughed it off as if he wasn't actually intimidated from it the slightest second. He could smell the alcohol in each word Corey spoke, 'babe' standing out to him because Corey barely called him that anymore. It made his spine tingle with some sort of lost excitement.

"Yeah, I'm actually gonna start getting ready. I won't take too long." He raised his mask's case up an inch to emphasize that he was on his way now. His partner nodded in return.  
Corey lifted his mask then suddenly bent forward the slightest to roughly press a wet makeup covered kiss onto Joey's lips, most likely painting his black now as well. Joey melted into the kiss and closed his eyes, savoring the taste of his mouth because they didn't kiss often anymore, it was rare. His stomach twisted when Corey's tongue pushed its way into his mouth. It was quickly even hotter now. 

Corey's fingers gently grazed Joey's waist as the kiss managed to deepen. For a moment, Joey's hands felt weak enough to drop the case. 

He could feel eyes glaring daggers into the back of his neck. All eyes were quickly on them, making out in the middle of the backstage hallway wasn't the best idea, but it seemed like Corey was just too drunk to care. 'See, he does love me! If he didn't he wouldn't be kissing me right now- That proves you all wrong!' Joey proudly said in his head when Corey deepened his kiss.  
The singer pulled back though, a spit trail wetly showing evidence of the kiss. That was so aggressive to the point where Joey knew that black makeup was surely smeared on his lips.  
"Really? In public like this?" Corey stated. Joey wondered what he meant so he followed Corey's blue eyes down to his crotch. No wonder his pants felt so tight. He embarrassingly used his mask case to shield it from any eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, it just..." Joey mumbled as his face flushed red.

Corey laughed, "Pfft! Go get changed already, Jesus." He waved Joey off and walked away to chat with the others, leaving Joey standing there to bask in his own embarrassment and erection.  
He turned to look at who seen. Mick and Paul were whispering and staring at each other then at him, it made Joey uncomfortable. Yet again, he and Mick locked eyes and he turned away in response. Joey was actually beginning to hate that. He understood that not many people were okay with their relationship or the idea of two men kissing in general but they didn't have to be so openly disgusted about it. That's what he hated the most. 

Joey marched off towards the dressing rooms to get himself settled, one hand blocking his now black mouth and the other holding the case to his badly concealed erection, hoping that it would go away as quick as possible.

*

Colored lights flashed in the darkness, Joey's area that housed his drum set being illuminated purple. Nobody could see him back there, despite the illumination.  
It all seemed like a dream to him, as if he were floating and the only thing keeping him to the ground was his place on his seat behind his large set.

Corey had been riling up the crowd. "I said to get fucking loud!" he shouted through the mic, causing the fans to scream frantically.

It made him shudder. 

Boiling adrenaline mixed with fear circulated through his veins. 

If he fucked this up, Corey would have his head on a wall.

He lashed out once before after Joey dropped his sticks mid concert- It rolled away from him once it hit the floor. It rolled off of the platform he was seated at. He had to stand and get it. Corey didn't like that.

The band just began to play their first song of the concert, The Virus of Life. 

He got the hang of it, it was fine. He was doing perfectly fine through half of the song, hitting what needed to be hit, slamming what needed to be slammed. He gripped his sticks tightly so they wouldn't slip like last time. 

But his thoughts scrambled yet again- The shouting then sometimes even hitting now prompting him to do good. Do perfectly. Don't mess up. Don't make mistakes. He'll fucking flip.  
Despite these efforts, he froze up.

The last time he froze up was in his middle school band, he'd forgotten what drums to hit and his mind blanked.

It seemed to be happening now.

As soon as he had been getting nauseous, his body seemed to shut down. Nothing worked and nothing moved. Joey's hands refused to cooperate and function to his brain's commands-- instead they profusely shook in place. 

The screaming of the crowd made his stomach churn as his head spun uncontrollably, vision blurring in front of him. He could barely see his hands which he stared down at. 

Sweat poured down his flesh from pores stickily and uncomfortably. His heart raced in his chest and sounded through his ears, the beating seeming to pound as quick as the rhythm of the song he was unable to play at that very moment, fear washing over him like a wave. 

The entire world didn't seem to halt in its place as if to stop and wait for him, but instead it all revolved and continued without him as he froze, especially when everyone stopped playing their own instruments and turned to him to see what was wrong. His sticks fell from his wet palms. 

Screams, cheers and also complaints echoed faintly in one ear and out the other. His mask seemed to be too close to his face all of a sudden, as if he was being suffocated by a dark mass upon it that made it hard to breathe. 

He ruined it already, it was over. 

As if in a trance, he'd been woken up from it by Corey's loud footsteps and yelling that managed to come closer to his small area in the back where he and his drums were positioned. 

He sounded very angry. It made Joey want to puke.

He knew what was coming, but the extent was a mystery.

The shaking in his hands intensified before he was grabbed out of his drum set's seat- a little too aggressively not to bruise- and dragged backstage by his arm by the other man. He felt like collapsing with his knees buckling as soon as he stood, but Corey wouldn't allow it, no, he hauled him forward regardless. If Joey had actually fell, Corey would've just picked him up again.

"Wait-- Corey, I-- I'm sorry, I don't know what happened, I just--!" Joey quickly stumbled over his own words, terrified. Corey was having none of it and ignored his cries. His angry strut blended with the unpredictable silence terrified Joey of what was yet to come-- the outburst, shouting and anger-- it added up to additional fear, but he was glad that he was off of the stage, he felt like he was about to vomit then anyway. 

The more steps forward, the more his nervousness prolonged and grew. Suddenly, when they were out of sight of security and people in general, Corey angrily turned his head as quick as an owl and shoved Joey's shoulders back, the force used being solid enough to cause him to stumble backwards onto the floor.

His daze lingered from earlier, not being able to process the blow quick enough for him to stop the impact with his hands so he flew back. The rage clashed terribly with the excessive amounts of alcohol Corey consumed before the concert, clearly blinded him all of a sudden from all empathy and reasoning, Joey could tell. 

"What the fuck was that about, Joey?! What happened back there, huh? Do you understand how fucking important this is to the band?!" Corey spat, the tone of voice sounding as threatening as could be. even more so because of Joey's vulnerability while being seated defenseless and scared on the floor, Corey menacingly staring down at him with fury evident in his blue eyes which light glazed from the ceiling's lamps, visible under the hooded darkness from the mask.

Corey roared again, "You just don't get it, do you? I'm not even fucking surprised- You pissed yourself once, twice, I bet you did it again! Get fucking over it! I'm not afraid of the crowd-- and I'm the one who has to get up there in front of everyone while you're there pussying out in the background crying! Get used to this shit, you're on thin fucking ice, Jordison! If this happens one more time-- I don't know what I'll do- I'm going to fucking snap!" 

During and especially after the yelling, Joey's voice quivered as he felt tears pool up in his eyes, threatening to leak, thankful that his mask made it hard to tell. 

"You don't fucking understand, Corey... You're too selfish to even spare a thought about what others think about you... You can't deny it and you know I'm right--" The collar of his jumpsuit was quickly reached for and grabbed tightly with a grip that could bruise for days as he was elevated upwards when Corey kneeled down, only to receive a solid blow to the jaw from Corey's fist. 

It was sudden and hell, did it shake Joey up. He felt that one through his mask, his face jerking backwards violently from the impact. His own shaky hand rose to instinctively shield himself from another, which never came. That was good, he expected so much more.

When he opened his eyes, the hold on his collar tightened and he was greeted with a glare that was so intense to the point where Corey stared straight into his wide eyes and through his soul, almost able to see and even feel every aspect of his fear that was presently held. Joey's other palm was pressed against the cold tiles of the floor to support him, preventing him from falling backwards.

They were only inches apart, the eerie silence clogging the hallway like thick smoke when Joey felt unable to breathe in oxygen to travel into his empty lungs, especially after the sudden punch he'd just endured. It all just seemed to drag on for hours. The uncomfortable glare that easily made him feel less than human. Corey's breathing was straightforward and heavy, anger fuming from out of him with each hesitant little tear that poured down Joey's cheeks under his mask. 

The stare broke when Corey released his jumpsuit with an additional push of anger. They shared one last glance before Corey interrupted it abruptly and brought his hand up to push Joey's face away to the side, guilt probably taking control as it typically did after his outrages. "Don't look at me like that," he uttered before standing straight again and walking back towards the direction of the stage.

Joey only sat there to recollect himself before shakily trying to stand up as well to follow in pursuit as much as he didn't want to go back after his little anxiety attack. With each step, the shame in his shadow walked along with him too. 

Corey sighed and said in a soothing tone which was completely different from the one used prior, "Just... Come on. Walk with me, alright? I just didn't mean to hurt you..." He said softly and looked down at Joey after he picked up his pace and arrived beside him. 

Joey's head refused to level away from down at his feet as wet hair draped over his face and shoulders, he only paid attention to the nervous fumbling with his violently shaking fingers that he couldn't help but do. 

He wasn't ever going to get used to this as much as he tried to. When they had returned, the two were greeted with eyes, questions and confusion, especially from their fellow bandmates-- but both refused to speak of what happened previously in the hallways and the concert only went on. Mick's eyes looked furious through his mask when he watched Corey walk back onto stage, as if he almost wanted to pummel someone.  
It didn't matter. 

Joey's mind went completely blank as he only focused on what drums he needed to hit at different times, when to smash cymbals and when to stop. His brain switched onto autopilot.

He didn't speak the rest of the night to anyone whatsoever. Jim had heard Corey's furious shouting and the squeaking of shoes that echoed backstage because he was close to the entrance of the stage where Joey was- and asked if everything was okay, but of course Joey only shrugged and brushed it off, no words being said. 

The tension in the room backstage after the gig was what told Joey that everyone had actually knew what had happened and how it dragged on, but they spoke nothing of it and feigned obliviousness.

They all knew the intensity between Joey and Corey's relationship, how far it went, how it wasn't healthy or good for their own mental states as well as the other bandmate's ones either. They couldn't break the two up, although many tries have been attempted. The toxic grip the two have will never cease its hold, this is what they all new. Especially Corey and Joey.

 

If nobody was going to make another effort to break the two up, Mick knew he had to go to full lengths to save the drummer from this abuse.


	2. im sad pt2: Mick's Views

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so heres another chapter!! the first one seemed to do pretty well in my book , so I couldnt resist throwing in another! its currently basically 3 AM and Ive been writing this all night- starbucks coffee is keeping me alive at the moment-  
> I very much enjoy writing slipknot fics, and i'll enjoy writing them even more if you all like them as much as I do! <3
> 
> I was thinking about alternating micks thoughts and joeys thoughts between chapters depending on how far it drags on and im going to try to get serious about writing this! :>
> 
> more tags also will be updated , it'll be pretty fun! please stay tuned!! <3

Mick did not in any way support their relationship.

He could not translate his feelings into words, especially not words directed to Joey who had been hurt by Corey for far too long, as long as they'd been in the band together, it seemed. As soon as Corey had replaced Anders in 97, he could already see the attraction they had for each other before they'd even began to date. Corey's was shallow while Joey's went far beyond that.

It was all so clear to Mick because he already had feelings for the drummer. He pointed out the immediate difference between the way Joey spoke and acted around him compared to interactions between the drummer and the singer. It made his heart numb. Of course nobody would feel a thing for a too-tall, obtuse man such as himself. He tried to make his affection obvious before Corey showed up, to no avail.

Corey was everything that Mick was not. 

Corey Taylor had good humor, he could get along with anyone with ease. That made Mick envious. To add to the jealousy, he was even sized averagely at 5'7- not as obstructive as Mick was. He wasn't a man to pick out of the crowd for his height and he wasn't known for it either as Mick was. Corey was a clown that got all the women swooning. But when Joey had gotten addicted to it as well and collected a small obvious crush for Corey, he'd lost all appreciation for that certain positive attribute about the other man.

Mick knew then that if Joey's small crush expanded to the limit where they'd get together as a couple, Joey's pain would be the only outcome, as well as Mick's. But his feelings didn't matter, it was all about Joey. 

He would watch Corey as he held women around their shoulders to travel to his hotel room as they giggled, or he'd be seated on a chair after a gig with a groupie on his lap, carelessly feeling her up with his hands traveling up her shirt as they kissed. All while Joey watched from the sidelines with a frown, Mick clearly seeing his heart ache. It happened too often.

He just didn't see what the fuck Joey saw in that man. Joey was blind, it seemed, because he didn't leave him yet. It was almost astonishing, it made his blood boil. 

He'd ruined his opportunity to help Joey already. It happened after Joey and the troublesome singer had began to date. Mick and Joey were close before, they weren't always this far apart. They surely wouldn't act out as Sid and Chris did to demonstrate their friendship, instead, they would open up to only each other about their problems, the past and the future. They had each other's backs because with the stress of being in the band adding onto personal issues, they had to have someone to lean on. 

Mick isolated himself from Joey after it'd all gotten too much for him to take.

He'd lost his chance of being more than friends because Corey had already stolen Joey's vulnerable heart, as toxic as their relationship was, and he didn't like it at all. It made it all worse. Corey was an asshole, Mick was the kindest to Joey that he could ever be with another human being, it didn't make any sense.

Joey would talk about any move that Corey made on him- he'd talk about how they'd kissed after a concert, where they went on dates and how charming Corey was. Mick did not want to burst his bubble by truthfully stating that there was no true love Corey returned, so he only emptily agreed with Joey's rambles. He hated hearing about how happy Joey was with Corey because the relationship was clearly one-sided.

It's like Joey always tried to block out the fact that Corey didn't really love him. His boyfriend would go off with girls, yell and throw his feelings aside. He knew this but this love was something and something was decent. It was tolerable for him. He didn't understand how bad it was because he just pushed it aside for so long.

He began to accept it. He would never be okay with what Corey did. 

But Joey wouldn't speak his concerns.

 

Mick didn't want to feel childish and say that he was only angry at Corey because he stole Joey right from under his palms. Mick and Joey knew each other since the beginning of Slipknot, while Corey on the other hand came later on when the hardships were flattened and smoothed out. That was terribly biased. That wasn't why. At all.

It was so much more than that, easily topping over any pitiful jealous thoughts Mick would often partake in.

He only wanted Joey to be happy and with the way Corey would treat him, he truly was not in a happy place at all. If Corey changed, it would be a different story. Mick wanted to tell the drummer that Corey would not change no matter how badly they all wished for him to. 

He wanted to say so much. 

So he distanced himself from Joey to avoid hurting him further. 

Resisting to interfere was a struggle for Mick.

He knew how deeply Joey was in love with Corey- He was his world, his fucking everything, as much as Mick didn't want to admit that. He wanted to be Joey's everything, not some womanizing clown.

Joey called him out for avoiding conversations with him immediately after he started to isolate himself from the drummer. Mick said that it was only coincidental, but Joey turned it all around and called him homophobic, that he was only fussy because he wasn't particularly fond of the sight of two men kissing publicly. Which was absolutely NOT why, to add, because he himself wanted to kiss Joey and he didn't care about who saw.

Mick would rather die than confess that. 

He sincerely regrets it now. 

He could distinctively recall Joey's yelling clearly, as if it only happened hours ago. 

*  
"Thats it, I fucking get it now, no need to explain," Joey fumed sarcastically, already seeming ready to stomp off, or to stomp Mick's head into a curb. Either one.

He'd confronted Mick outside and away from the bus because Mick had gotten up from his comfortable seat in the bus's living room seconds after Joey and Corey began to make out on the couch across from him. 

Mick said back, now beginning to lose his temper which was easily tolerated, "Oh yeah, then what is it, Joey?" He wouldn't guess correctly anyway, why wouldn't he test him. He leaned his shoulder against the light pole, looking up at the bus which was quite far away, then back into Joey's furious eyes. "I'm sure it's not what you think."

"You really wanna know, Mick? It's clearly obvious with the way you act around me and Corey!"

Mick felt his anger boil within him, threatening to be unleashed but he wouldn't show it in front of Joey, and it absolutely wouldn't be directed at him either. He just had to remain calm... Talk it out... He inhaled deeply then exhaled as he crossed his arms.

"Then spit it out already."

And oh, Joey did. "You're just fucking homophobic! You hate seeing two men love each other, I know that's it!" Joey now yelled, fists clenching with each word he spat. "You hate seeing me and Corey in love, you fucking asshole!" 

Mick's eyes widened. "No, you little idiot! I'm not homophobic! Fuck him right in front of me, see if I care!" Mick had snapped now. He felt terrible as soon as those words angrily voiced themselves from his mouth. He'd never lashed out like this before at Joey, but he couldn't hold it back. It hurt Mick to even hear Joey accuse him of something so low. "You're so dense!"

"I will fucking fuck him and I'll tell you all about it just to see your disgusted face! I don't care about what you think! You're a fucking asshole, Mick, after all we've been through, this is what you avoid me for!" His eyes teared as he said in a near scream, increasing in pitch, "I hate you!" Joey furiously shoved Mick back-- or made an attempt to, because Mick only stepped back once after the impact-- and stomped onto the bus in a run with tears in his eyes. 

"Wait, Joey!"

He sighed angrily, disappointed in himself for talking to Joey like that. "Fuck..." He murmured.

Mick was too stunned to move. He wanted to talk it out nicely before Joey called him that. 

Mick stood there hesitantly, about to run after Joey to ask if he was okay which was not a good idea for the moment, especially after what just happened. He'd just want to be left alone.

Through the parked tour bus's door that Joey had run through, someone exited, looking clearly pissed off. Corey began to yell as he marched off of the bus to confront Mick for making Joey cry. 

There was a fight, Corey landing a blow on Mick's cheek before being followed and held back by Craig who was the official 'Peaceful Executioner' of the band, ready to stop fights on the double because they occurred often between the nine. He put Corey in a choke hold to calm him down. Mick didn't want this to happen, but the blame was on him anyway. He deserved it.

*

It was simply too much for Mick to handle. This was before their relationship expanded into a total shithole. Corey's and Joey's as well as Joey's with Mick. In different ways, obviously. 

After that argument, Joey had accepted the fact that Mick didn't wish to talk with him anymore so he returned the favor, and Mick hated it. He wanted a second chance, and he wanted it now more than ever. 

Helping Joey proved itself to be difficult now. He couldn't even approach the small man without Joey shrugging him off. 

If only Joey could just see that he only wanted to help him, it'd make his life a little easier. Just, see through the wall Mick had barricaded himself into and break it down until the only thing left was affection and care. Mick couldn't do it alone.

Paul offered to help though. After the fight, he told Paul everything, who demanded to know what was wrong before he'd get Shawn's bat to beat him into a pulp. He had nobody else to tell, anyway. 

The bassist helped Joey in ways that Mick couldn't.

It made Mick envious, he wanted to be the one doing all of the comforting as he did before, but he knew for a fact that he couldn't.

He deeply wished to repair his and Joey's relationship but he wouldn't be able to muster up any words which he positively knew would aid their friendship. 

He'd just mess it all up again. 

Sometimes he thought that being upfront would help, but at this point, Joey would only see his criticism as hate. He blamed himself for not speaking with Joey again sooner. He didn't want to damage what they had any further than it already had been.

It all burned inside of him, especially in his chest when he'd see Corey mistreat Joey- and he'd just accept that without any feedback or comments against the treatment. He hated when he had to see that and lurk in the sidelines because he could do nothing to help. 

Especially now. 

 

Mick's palms were sweaty as he held his guitar's neck, awaiting the return of the lost drummer and singer. Everyone looked confused and almost dazed, including Mick. He wanted to march back there along with the two to make sure nothing bad happened, because recently, Corey has been having fits of anger that he directed at Joey as a little punching bag when he was frustrated. If anything happened to Joey, he would lose all control. 

He watched as Jim neared towards Joey's set, right beside the raised platform in the back. He didn't climb up the steps to be closer to the entrance, that would make his snooping clearly too obvious. Mick hoped he would spill the news to the band as soon as the concert had finished because from this far away, he could only hear the crowd.

He was about to stomp over there before Chris stopped him with questions. "What the fuck is going on? He just walked off!" Chris exclaimed over the audience's screaming. 

Mick shrugged and shouted back at him in confusion, "I think that Joey isn't feeling so well, he probably just went to check on him or something."

Chris shook his head, "He looked angry, Christ. I'll just take over a bit from here!"

"Yeah, you do that!"

Chris jumped off of his drum set and announced through the microphone that Corey had dropped before dashing off, "Joey isn't feeling too well, but the show isn't fucking canceled so hold the fuck on! We're still performing!" The crowd riled in response, even louder when Chris began to jerk off his nose.

Mick sighed. He looked to his side to find Shawn absolutely furious, throwing his sticks onto the floor.

Security began to flock into the entrance to investigate the interruption but the time they'd all ran in was the time that Corey and Joey walked out.

After Corey returned with Joey following behind him, Mick knew what had went down. It was the same as ever. 

He stared as Joey shakily took a seat behind his set. He moved slowly, carefully and awfully tense. His mask was crooked, so he straightened it before picking up his sticks and hitting his drums in a short solo to tell everyone that he was okay. They all chimed in with screams in return.

Mick knew that he wasn't okay. 

Corey strutted back onto the front of the stage, Chris handing him the microphone. Mick glared daggers into the singer's back, knowing that he'd done something terribly wrong to Joey. He just had the worst feeling in his gut that there was more than meets the eye, it made him sick. He gripped the neck of his guitar tightly until his knuckles were white.  
"Sorry about that shit, but we're fucking back now! It's all good!" Corey shouted through his microphone. "Start from the top?" 

Which they did.

Joey's playing didn't seem right that night, it wasn't his best. He knew his best just as well as he acknowledged his worst, and this seemed to rank straight in the middle of that radius. It wasn't like him at all.

It hurt so bad.

"I could only hear the shouts echoing through the halls- It was just Corey. He was fucking livid, man," Jim confessed as he held a cold beer in his hand while sitting at one of the backstage benches. He was beside Paul on the same bench, Mick sitting at a plastic chair in front of them with a beer in his hands as well. The room was tinted with colored lights, the smell of cheap perfume radiating from nearby groupies along with the scent of alcohol that filled the area, coming from the booze used as they were celebrating after the concert. He couldn't wait to retreat to his hotel room to rest.

Chris and Corey were busy with the groupies, pounding drink after drink together like it was the end of the fucking world. It was typical for the two to do so, but it was only wrong for Corey because he was the one with the boyfriend. While glancing up from his beer, Mick spotted Corey with two groupies on each leg of his lap. Chris had a brunette pushed against the wall, the make out session purely out of lust as they pulled themselves onto each other. Mick looked away in disgust. 

"You think Joey's okay? He doesn't seem so good after that. Even before the whole situation, he was doing better," Paul spoke up. He sipped from his bottle of coke because he avoided drinking liquor as Joey did, except Joey only avoided getting drunk so he drank very lightly.

Jim shook his head and sighed, "I dunno. He won't open up to me, I tried to ask earlier." He sipped from his bottle again, leaning back to the wall to look upwards at the roof and rest his head against it tiredly.  
The music was low, thankfully, it allowed them all to chat peacefully using a normal soft tone and also allowed Mick to organize his thoughts. He really needed to.

Joey had been visibly sulking in one of the corners. Unusually, he had a beer in his hands as he hunched over to rest his elbows on his knees, hair falling over his shoulders and strands over his face. He was sitting in the position as he had been before the concert but instead the weakness and vulnerability involved was increased. 

Mick wanted to gently brush his hair back behind his ears and tell him that it was going to be okay. 

He fucking hated it when he'd watch as Joey would shut down like this. 

Joey slowly brushed some hair behind his ears as if he heard Mick's thoughts before raising the drink to his lips. His perfect lips that Corey took advantage of. He could barely make out the expression Joey had on from so far away but he could clearly see his pained ice colored eyes directed up at Corey longingly. 

He had enough of sitting back and watching.

This was just a big fucking mess and he wished he could step up and take charge. 

Paul and Jim chattered away about the concert before Mick let out what seemed to be a growl escape from his throat as his head fell in his palm, defeated. Mick, the usually talkative man, seemed to be at a loss for words.

"Whats up, man? You're only on your second drink," Jim pointed out, glancing down at Mick's half empty bottle he loosely held in his palms. "Something bothering you?"

Paul glanced at Mick as if to ask permission to tell Jim the problem at hand that only the both of them knew of. Mick nodded and looked down at his black boots, waiting for Paul to finish explaining the issues. 

Mick's eyes seemed to unfocus as he glowered down at his feet. It could have been caused by the alcohol or by the emotional daze that currently washed over him like a fog.

It seemed to be ages until Paul finished. Jim suddenly asked, "You should just go up to him and ask if he's doing okay. It's a start, you know, Mick." He was released from his daze as he looked up, the calling of his name making him aware again.

He was too afraid to start, he would just destroy it all over again. The scars would never heal.

Jim sighed again, "Are you just going to leave him like that? If you feel what you do, act on it. If you wanna help him, fucking go for it, alright? I'll support you, Paul will too."

"What if I say something wrong...?" Mick asked softly, having forgotten of the beer in his hand. His stomach turned uneasily, this feeling of hopelessness eating him up inside as his he now stared at the end of the table. This was rare for him to feel-- So fucking rare that he didn't know how to handle it properly. 

"Nothing is wrong at this point. Any words will help, by saying nothing, you'll just leave him to suffer alone," Paul stated as he put a warm hand on Mick's shoulder. "You'll do fine."

"What should I say..." Mick mumbled and wondered out loud to himself, but also to the two other guitarists beside him. He finally settled his beer on the table that he believed he wouldn't be able to finish tonight. 

"Say what you think, you can't lie anymore. It'll just make it all worse," Jim began , pausing to sip his 3rd beer once, "If you feel like Corey is an asshole, say it, but in a nice way so that he understands."

"But that can wait for later- focus on you two right now, to at least get the basic foundation back," Interrupted Paul. 

Mick thankfully nodded, acknowledging their suggestions. He couldn't possibly do this alone, as much as asking for help internally humiliated him the slightest. But he held his pride aside, he appreciated every ounce of support. "Alright..." 

Jim took yet another swig from his bottle of beer. "This is some good fucking booze, damn!" 

Paul replied, "This is some good fucking coke," before sipping from the can of pop.

Mick sighed as he took one last drink from his bottle, his lingering presence alerting Jim. 

"Now get the fuck up and go talk to our tiny man!" Jim beamed and raised his glass in the air to angle it towards Joey. "Before it's too late!" 

"I will, I will," Mick murmured, now feeling a little more comfortable and confident. He pushed his chair back and stood up. He was glad that tonight was the night that all of the groupies were attracted to everyone that wasn't him. He was too preoccupied. Besides, he wasn't into groupies anymore anyway. He needed time to think now. 

The hesitance ate him up inside as he smoothed out his black button up shirt free of wrinkles. He anxiously stared at the ground before Paul piped up, "Come on, Mick, you can do it! Talk to him, dude!" 

"Alright... Thank you." Mick turned on his heels slowly as his two supporters cheered him on. Onto the hard part. 

Through the small mass of people backstage-- mostly consisting of slutty groupie chicks-- Joey sat in the same spot as he had been earlier, looking vastly more depressed than he had appeared before. Mick hesitantly approached the bench he was at. 

As he traveled across the room, groupies stopped him left and right. It seemed like he'd thought too early about them not bothering him that night, as if they'd heard and immediately approached at all angles to bring him annoyance on purpose. He wasn't in the mood for their shit. They were like succubus. 

"Wanna take a seat with me, big man?" One groupie purred from his right, taking hold of his hand with her cold ones. Immediately, he pulled his hand back and continued his walk which was now more desperate and quick to get to Joey's position than it was before. Access denied.

Soon, Joey was nearby in the same spot on the bench. Mick looked on from a distance, as if Joey was a poisonous plant that should be avoided, his colors luring Mick in. Instead of colors, it would be the overwhelming sadness that he radiated around him that made him egged on to help.

Mick's heart wouldn't lower its pace. He didn't know why. 

His steps seemed slow and dragged as if all time had stopped around him and he was the only one managing to slug through it. He'd surely be denied of conversation. 

Before Mick was ready, Joey's icey blue eyes flicked upwards to look into his own. They were striking.

 

Mick's heart dropped.


	3. im sad pt3: The Start of A New Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's another chapter for those of you who are reading!! <3 <3  
> thank you so much for all of the supportive comments to whoever left,, it was wholesome and it made my entire day--  
> I screed literally so piercingly loud  
> thank you !!!
> 
> this chapter -- or basically this entire story-- might be very triggering for you- so please be aware that it could touch upon some sensitive topics! <3
> 
> I haven't written chapters in so long-- as in, seriously written chapters- id usually lose hope at this point, lose the spark. but im very confident in this one for some reason!
> 
> there may be lots of errors even though ive read this through so many times to make it as decent as possible! aaaa!
> 
> so this is joey's pov somewhat, with mick's in between. I like this, where I twist the main pov's in the middle of chapters-- :>  
> i'll try to improve my writing skills as I go!  
> also bonus:  
> I wrote this at the end of the fic cuz I was scared it wouldnt save and my computer would crash then bam all that progress would be gone: "please mothercucking save"  
> okay okay now enjoy <3

Joey's mind seemed to be in a permanent state of dismay, his eyes blurred with tears that pressured to leak from his eyes. It was all normal, he now felt like he'd gotten mentally adjusted to the crying because it occurred so often.

He tried very hard to accept the fact that this would continue and drag on, that the cycle would never be put to an end, so he should just appreciate what he had now. Corey would only continue to be himself even if Joey was there, a girl in his arms in the blink of an eye as Joey couldn't help but watch it unfold.  
His heart seemed to be slowly peeling away at itself.

It was almost as if Corey knew what he'd been doing from the very beginning, fully educated about how miserable Joey felt on the inside whenever he would openly show that Joey meant nothing to him in public.

Shamefully, he admitted to himself that he couldn't intervene and stand against the actions and deeds his boyfriend committed, let alone enforce order or even express his feelings and thoughts towards him. He addressed that to himself earlier and it crossed his mind again.

In front of the entire room, studio, backstage, tour bus- everyone witnessed as Joey, the previously outgoing and opinionated man, lowered his head for the singer. It was shameful, truly a disaster upon whatever pride he had left within himself.

It was happening right now.

Backstage, right after the concert.

Alcohol was being passed around and everyone thirstily had their fill-- Except for Paul, of course.  
Jim sat on a far off bench, drinking to his hearts content while Paul was seated beside him with cola.

Through the people who occasionally walked by to get to one side of the area to another, he spotted Mick who was awfully quiet. He knew that Mick was typically very talkative when he consumed alcohol, especially after a show, but something really seemed to be off tonight. He looked down at the table, not saying a word as the two others chatted away.

It was unusual.

He almost wanted to walk over there to check up on the guitarist but he knew deep down that those days were over.

It was Mick's fault.

Who cares.

Craig had been sitting a little off from the guitarist group, silently sipping from a cold beverage and listening in on their conversation. Joey could later ask what they were talking about, but it didn't matter to him if Mick was involved.

He scanned around for Sid who he had no problem picking out of the crowd, the real problem was keeping track of his position in it. He was easy to lose. He kept himself busy by dashing from one spot to the next, trying whatever drinks available- like a suicide drink in his stomach where you'd mix up different soda flavors and drink it all down. This time, it was with booze.

Chris, previously making out with a brown haired slut, now was seated beside Corey with a huddle of groupie tits in his face. Corey was no different.

Joey's attention was forced to be distracted apart from Sid or even simply just the act of finding the rest of the members of the band backstage as he'd been doing moments prior to keep his mind off of many things. It only led him back to the beginning.

Corey was being watched now by Joey, stare as long as a hawk's but as weak as a fragile mouse's. He witnessed those rough hands gliding up the groupie's too-small Slipknot tank top to cup his hand around her breast, possibly even sliding it under the bra too to feel around and make himself comfortable. She giggled and pressed kisses to Corey's lips, he smirked in response and squeezed. The other groupie on the left bounced a little, so he controlled her with his other hand in her pants, fiddling with her underwear.

They could at least go back to the hotel.

So that nobody would have to acknowledge how much of a pig he was at the moment.

Especially so that Joey wouldn't see it all unfold.

Additionally, so that he wouldn't be stared at expectedly to interfere when he and everyone else as well knew for a fact that he couldn't do shit.

He couldn't do fucking shit.

He knew that it occurred, but watching... It hurt. He turned away at the floor which seemed to be the only thing he would directly face this night. Not Corey, not Paul or Jim when they attempted conversation, especially not himself.

It took strength to face fears, problems and issues. Strength that Joey couldn't seem to possess. People often told him that he had strength within himself and caged away but when he used to attempt to release it, the strength he so called had simply refused to manifest itself.

It would never be any different.

*  
He had excused himself to use the nearest restroom immediately after the show as soon as they were far away from the eyes that watched their every move during the performance.  
Distressed, he stumbled and practically threw himself into one of the stalls, slamming it open with a loud bang he heard in return to note the uneasy force he couldn't help but act with. He needed to get it all out already.

He groaned and forcibly shoved his finger down his throat to trigger everything to come up from his stomach and through his throat violently. For what seemed like forever, he'd been gagging and vomiting out whatever it was in his stomach that had been spinning and turning inside the entire time. With Corey, without Corey and while thinking about Corey. It endlessly made him nauseous.

The bathroom wreaked of vomit now, more than the minor stench it contained before Joey invaded it.  
His glazed eyes lingered on the toilet bowl. He took a moment to recollect himself mentally as if doing so would flush out the thoughts in his head as well.

Joey's body felt sticky under his clothes and especially under his own skin.

It always felt that way.

He couldn't remember when it was any different.

After the moment of processing he took to recover, weakly, he pushed the hair that fell over his face back behind his ears as he returned to his normal straight posture, glad that nothing got into his hair.

After clearing his system and spitting any leftover bile into the bowl before flushing, he insisted on closing the filthy toilet seat to sit and catch his breath for a bit. Besides, its not like anyone had been looking for him anyway. Nobody expected him anywhere, his short disappearance would go unnoticed. He could now take all the time he needed.

Breakfast was gone as well as the fluids of energy drinks in his system which was the only things keeping him functionable that night. All that was left of him now was himself and his own thoughts, images in his head of the frightening experience of Corey's anger trip earlier.

He stepped outside of the stall to approach the sinks. Through a mirror with a slender crack drawn across the glass along with various smudges and markings tattered upon the smooth material, he met his own dim eyes.

Stared into himself.

Through the sorrow, through the stress, he could almost reimagine his old self. Not resurface it though.

It was all Cor--… It was all his own fault.

Corey did nothing wrong. It was himself for being foolish.

Corey did love him, after all.

The large dark purple blemish on his face that only seemed to darken instead of heal -- it was an accident.

Corey wouldn't hurt him on purpose...

It was all just a happy little accident.

He'd lick him better afterwards... That was always the case.

Corey loved him so much.

Joey managed to force a grin at himself in the mirror. It was fucking pointless, why did he even bother?

His eyes were dim and his grin told lies. Dark circles were colored under his eyes, tear stained cheeks through leftover black spots of stage makeup managed to make themselves apparent. The bruise grew noticeable in time.

Water wouldn't wash it all away. Even the makeup-- his hands couldn't muster up the strength to apply the right force to wipe it off.

It definitely couldn't wash away the damage.

*  
He would, as light as a butterfly touching gracefully upon a weak flower that could barely lift its petals up by its stem, sweep the broken pieces off of Joey's chest as well as the hair that currently fell over his pale face and shoulders, he'd sweep the strands back in place. He didn't want to break anything further-- he had to be careful.

He hated when Joey would allow himself to lower into a state of mind where he didn't care about his appearance. He'd usually be tidy and upbeat.

Mick secretly loved that quirk about him.

He didn't want it to fade.

He wanted to gently scrub the pain away.

But he couldn't.

*  
Now Joey felt like the world had officially stopped. Not for his benefit. All this time he had wished it'd pause its motion to give him time to catch his breath, but now that it had listened, he felt like it was only to leave him behind as everyone else's worlds continued to move.

His begs were completely misinterpreted.

He'd drained bottle after bottle, whatever he could get his little hands on.

It didn't matter the title, taste, brand.

He was usually very picky with his alcohol and the amount, now he didn't bother to manage it.

For a moment, it seemed like it had worked.

His pain was finally soothed, the aching now fading the slightest.

But eventually, the satisfying high that he'd worked towards ceased as quick as the speed in which he snapped and decided to drink his sorrows away. He now felt sick and woozy, light on his toes.

Nothing ever went his way.  
This was all a mistake.  
He felt eyes on him.  
Just staring.  
Fuck.

Joey's head began to spin as he gazed up at the commotion around him. Hued purple lights swirled his thoughts in repetitive circles. People seemed to only appear as solid black figures if the purple light wasn't against the flesh.

Dancing, laughing, flirting. He used to do that sort of thing too. He felt chained down, almost. Every small spark of confidence he held before had been stamped out by Corey. He could recall it now as he watched the other longingly.

It made him feel so fucking sick inside. It wasn't this way before.

When Joey would get sick and tired of Corey's manipulative ways, he would--

He seen a tall figure that interrupted the terrible stream of thoughts that spun like thread in Joey's mind. Standing there.

The figure approached slowly- hesitant looking- as he only was processed as a blurry dark smudge through Joey's unfocused pupils. The man looked like a hesitant beast about to pounce on an unsuspecting little injured bird. Or maybe that was just Joey's immediate mindset that made him fear. Come to think about it, the shadow didn't seem very threatening. The music that forced and pounded its way into Joey's ears made him feel dizzy, unable to think.

His weary eyes focused on the lengthy black hair and the blue eyes that solemnly spoke to him.

It was Mick.

Mick?

What the fuck did he want?

Joey groaned as his eyebrows closed in together in a scowl. He didn't care enough to maintain the eye contact after looking up quickly. Mick was the last person he wanted to see. Mick's only words were pitiful, it was just a dense and pointless rinse and repeat.

Joey just hated the pity at this point.

But his pupils focused on the pained expression of worry that quickly formed on Mick's face.

Immediately, Mick brought his hand up to raise towards Joey's face and on instinct, Joey tensed, tucking in on himself at the unexpected movement. He shut his eyelids tightly.

But fingers lightly dragged across where the ugly bruise was plastered on his face. He felt Mick's warm thumb brush against it with the most gentle touch, it made Joey want to relax his head in his large palm and drift off into a deep sleep, probably an alcohol-induced one.

The pain of the bruise was immediately forgotten.

But then he remembered,  
This was Mick that made him feel at ease. He couldn't let that asshole have that sort of power. Corey didn't possess it, who could? Not Mick.

Before Joey came to his senses to pull his face away, which he probably could have done earlier if he didn't drink so much, Mick dropped his hand down and whispered, "This was from Corey, wasn't it?"

Joey replied, "Why does it matter to you?" he sighed and added a little louder, "No, I slipped in the bathroom and-"

"Huh." Mick furiously turned in the direction where Corey was seated. Just the sight of him alone made Mick furious.

"It really isn't what you're thinking. Besides, it's none of your business anyway," He now stated. Joey could sense the anger radiating from him, just boiling the blood that coursed through his body that needed to be soothed through violence which was directed at the singer.

"Wait here, Jo," Mick growled in a threateningly low tone. His previously gentle hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. The aura he gave off made Joey shiver with a sense of fear, not for his own sake but for others.  
Deep down, he knew that Mick wouldn't hurt him.

The drummer opened his mouth to speak but before he could, Mick made ground in Corey's direction. A few steps took him as far as many of Joey's ones.

He had to do something now, if he let this slide then it'd create an even larger issue at hand.

His body refused to react until the last second.

Joey lunged his body forward off of the bench to grasp onto Mick's hand, pulling him back with all of the might he had left. "Mick! No!" He screamed lightly- soft enough where only Mick could hear, and yanked him backwards again. Surprisingly, it stopped Mick dead in his tracks.

Joey pulled hard enough to pull Mick back half a step. Confused, Mick looked down at Joey who struggled to pull him back by the hand, eyes squinted shut, so he abided and huffed as he followed Joey who was relieved that he'd stopped the large man without being dragged off along with him.

Mick had the strength and the capability to haul 10 Joey's on his back and they both knew that.

Joey was pleasantly surprised that he stopped the bull, he wasn't expecting it to work.

Luckily, nobody noticed the short scene that played out thanks to the now booming music that hypnotized everyone to drink, fuck and party.

With nowhere else to go for privacy because people would wander the halls, Joey lead Mick tightly by the hand to the closest restroom other than the one he threw up in.

The halls went quieter the greater the distance, but the pulsating music that boomed through speakers still echoed through the darkness, the only thing that allowed them to see ahead was the floor that was illuminated by small lights on the ceiling.

Joey felt Mick's previous grip on his hand loosen, no force being applied whatsoever.

But the anger could still be felt like waves.

When they got there, the bathroom's bright lighting that made the two squint slightly caused Joey's bruise to be all the more visible. Mick's eyes widened again as they had before when he first laid eyes upon the marking, but this time, Joey put his hands on Mick's chest as if to calm him down.

"Look... It is from Corey, when we left in the beginning of the show. It was him, okay?" He watched as Mick tensed but Joey's hands glided an inch down Mick's shirt and he calmed again. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Stupid? He deserves what I'll give him and you know it, it's a perfectly fine reason to fucking beat him to the floor, Joey." Mick began to raise his voice, making Joey want to shrink. "So all this time, all those bruises- were they from you tripping or bumping into things as you tell everyone?" The guitarist glowered down at Joey, the truth now being revealed as much as Joey tried to follow through with the fibs.

Joey sighed, "What else am I supposed to say, 'Oh, Corey fucking kicked my shin because I didn't want to go fucking drinking with him and the bruise is nasty!' I can't!" Mick's large hands closed on themselves yet again.

"Anything is fine, just please speak up for once!" Mick pleaded in a concerned tone, about to move Joey's hands from his chest when he was pushed backwards and into the bathroom wall with a soft thud, small hands glued to his shirt.

Joey's head drooped down, staring at the filthy floor that seemed to have not been mopped for weeks, told the state of this place. Hair that was damp with sweat fell over his face. His head began to spin so badly that he couldn't prevent his mouth from spitting out things he couldn't help but say at this point in time.

The words all leaked out like blood flooding through a cheap bandage.

So he slapped on another flimsy band-aid over the other one in hopes that it would stop the red from seeping through.

"It's not what you think... People will get the wrong idea. I understand him, unlike you, and... He doesn't do it to hurt me, you know..." Joey weakly raises his limp head to meet Mick's eyes with his own watery ice ones, "It's just accidental."

Sigh.

"Joey..." Mick murmured softly as his hands raised to lightly grasp Joey's thin wrists that were decorated with bracelets of all sorts. It was all he had to say because the grip Joey clawed onto Mick's shirt immediately loosened.

Wet sniffles broke out from Joey, now shaking uncontrollably as he stared downwards into nothingness. The alcohol made his emotions feel like a tornado, unsure and violently spinning in a whirlwind.

It wouldn't make a difference.

All he ever did was cry.

He felt Mick rub soft circles into his wrists as comfort when he cried, they made him feel like his knees would finally weakly buckle together.

Mick whispered under his breath, "Please, please just let me help you..." as he stared down at Joey, now even resisting the break of tears when he watched as the little drummer broke in front of him, which to add, was rare because of the defensiveness he held involving his emotions.

Now... He just didn't seem to give a shit at all.

Before Corey, Joey would cry in front of Mick openly.

Now... Mick knew that something was wrong. Joey didn't want him to know but he couldn't help but open the gates for his built up emotions to flood outwards on display.

"Please don't be distant towards me anymore... I hate it so much, Jo..." Mick mumbled and held Joey's shaking wrists.

Joey nodded. Mick didn't understand what that meant, so he continued on.

"I miss how we were before... You know it all, I don't have to explain." Mick's gaze lowered as Joey's shoulders seemed to tighten. He wasn't ready for this conversation- he was sure that they both weren't. "What happened to that, where did it go?" Joey didn't know how to respond, he couldn't properly process any words to say as a reply, not even a simple sentence nonetheless.

It was all just a blur.

He didn't understand.

"Please... I don't want us to be ruined any further."

Silence stuffed through the bathroom, they didn't speak any further. In spite of this, Joey only continued to allow the tears to freely drift down his cheeks and across the dark purple bruise that now wasn't visible through his hair.

"Why...?" Joey couldn't bring himself to lift his seemingly heavy head to make eye contact with the other male.

The guitarist opened his mouth to respond to the shortly worded question that he knew the answers to, but before he could speak, Joey had gagged suddenly. Out of the blue, he quickly left Mick's warm grasp on his wrists, slammed his shaking hand over his mouth instinctively and launched himself off of the tall guitarist.

He rushed towards one of the several stalls, almost toppling over his own feet as he ran. His shoulder bumped into the door and created even more of a racket. Mick followed in pursuit behind the small drummer when he took off.

The alcohol came up at once, flowing out from his mouth as soon as he leaned over the toilet.  
Just in time, Mick's fingers quickly glided over his forehead to collect the loose long locks of hair that drooped over his forehead to prevent it from getting in the way. With his large hands, he pulled Joey's hair back so that it would not fall over his face as he hunched over the toilet and emptied his stomach from the alcohol.

Joey continued to cough as Mick rubbed his back soothingly. When it was all over and Joey was officially worn out and exhausted from the experience, he stood up again. Mick stepped back so that he could exit after flushing it down the hole.

"Yeah... I think you need to go back to the hotel," Mick pointed out after Joey had splashed cold water onto his face, staring up at his reflection blankly.

Joey watched as Mick took that opportunity to wash his face as well, not getting the chance to do so after the show which was good because he would've had to follow Joey when he'd gone earlier that night.

He couldn't wait to get out of this vomit-scented dump. 

As Mick began to dry his face with a paper towel from the machine beside the sink he used, Joey's legs felt feeble and wobbly. It was probably because he'd just emptied everything out of his system- which wasn't very much to begin with - for the second time in one night. He hadn't eaten since that morning. 

He took a step before his legs felt too shaky to function properly, causing him to stumble forward like a crippled ostrich. (me) Thankfully for Joey, he caught himself on the other paper towel machine. The floor looked too filthy to touch.

The world was circulating around him for a few seconds, he was dazed.

Startled, the guitarist threw the wipe he held to the floor which added to the additional mess that nobody bothered to pick up and hurried to Joey's aid. 

He hadn't drank like that in what seemed like forever...

This night was just going terribly wrong.

Now Mick had to escort him out of the bathroom like a bodyguard.

Perfect. 

*  
"I'm going to take Joey back n' call a taxi or something," Mick stated as simplistically as possible to avoid any sort of possibility of attracting attention. He pointed behind him with his thumb, indicating that Joey was sitting patiently on one of the benches waiting for him to return.

Shawn nodded and glanced in the direction behind Mick. "Alright. Glad you are, I have never seen that kid drink like that in a while. Is he okay?"

Mick shrugged and glanced around the place as he spoke. He tried to pick Corey out of the seemingly greater crowd. "I know. He's doing fine now. Feeling a little hurt is all."

"Corey?" Shawn immediately suggested after sipping from his beer. He never drank heavily either, he had an entire ruckus of a band to keep track of, after all. 

He wasn't surprised that he'd gotten it right on the first try. Everybody knew about the two's problematic relationship. 

"Yeah... It's getting worse and he's only getting worse along with it."

The percussionist sighed and placed a palm on his head, "I wish they would just fucking break up already. I can't take his crying."

This comment made Mick's ears perk up.

"What do you mean by that?" Mick asked, already estimating the worst meaning of the remark.

"The crying thing? All he ever does is cry in the sidelines as Corey hits up girls, doesn't it get annoying to you? I wish he'd just man up a bit and break up with him instead of being a crying bitch about it! It really is just his fault for letting it drag on. Like, just stop bitching and do something! It isn't that hard, you know?" 

Shawn loved to run his mouth.

Mick wanted to explode.

He wanted to punch his jaw straight off of its hinges.

There was much more to this story than meets the eye. None of them know past what the two say, there's more pages to the book that hasn't been read yet.

Shawn has a point nonetheless. 

It's only laced with a shitty attitude and fucked up remarks. 

But Joey is definitely not a fucking bitch.

Oh, what did he expect. 

"Yeah. I know." Mick couldn't help but let a hint of his anger slip, as he liked to do, "Who knows, maybe Joey will break up with Corey as you wanted, but it'd break up YOUR band in the process. How ironic would that be?"

Shawn was about to say something along the lines of, "I wouldn't let that happen," but Mick interrupted and marched off towards Joey. His stomping was some way to relax the slightest, to release some tense nerves.

*  
While Mick had been gone, Joey was seated beside the open hallway that led them to the bathroom. The occasional person filtered in and out through it but Joey felt too sick to look up and see who's faces they were.

He just wanted to get back to his hotel room that he and Corey shared. 

Joey wanted to take a long hot shower to wash off the shame, sweat and dirt his body had collected, change into fresh clean clothes then pass out as soon as he touched his bed.

He felt like he'd go mad if he spent another hour in this stuffily humid place.

The hued lights changed their colors from purple to a bright maroon. Very Slipknot-esque. Black and red.

He focused on the lights, then the shadows, then the people. The music as well, it forced itself into his ears anyway. 

He was always like this, seated in the side lines. 

In the back.

It didn't bother him. He liked it, actually. 

Until he smelled Corey's cologne that he knew too well. 

"What're you doin' all alone here, babe?"

Fuck.


	4. im sad pt4: A Sixth Sense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sooo tired. it's 6 am les go sisturz I cant even type correctly right now im so tired  
> please-- I hope you enjoy this little update- I had a little too much fun with the POV switches and all <3  
> ALSO  
> TRIGGER WARNING--  
> There's a bit of forced sexual contact in this chapter so I thought I'd let you all know now. Corey is being a dickhead as it was hinted in the previous chapter--  
> I hope that isnt very triggering :(( <3
> 
> please enjoy my story!! <3 <3 <3  
> this one is pretty long what the hecccc

Corey's hands coldly caressed Joey's pale face, his touch was one that made Joey's bones feel stiff and heavy. It was unbearable and unlike any other sensation he'd ever felt before. It made him feel used and abused by the other man with just the contact alone.

The touch did not feel caring and full of feelings, but of only masked emotions containing a definite emptiness where the one true desire was not of love, it was an emotion that Joey could not precisely pinpoint on the nose.

His heart managed to race yet again for what seemed like the 50th time that night.

"You finally gave in to the booze, haven't you? I knew you really had it in you, baby!" Corey took a short step of advancement towards Joey who looked up at him with a face that painted a series of complicated emotions. The singer's hand was rested on his chin now, forcing him to look up into those dark blue orbs of his.

They were something to fear. Empty. Hollow. Devoid of any sense of emotion that wasn't one of the two : pure lust or completely nothing at all.  
If only Corey really knew why Joey drank. It wasn't hard to tell.

Why he'd tackled the drinks and why he had tried to drink himself into an abyss where he'd feel nothing except for the satisfying buzz that numbed the swelling pain inside was something Corey didn't understand. He had the self control and he'd sustained it for so long, it wasn't easy for him to shatter.

It blotted out the thoughts like ink.

The images.

Corey.

"You look so cute when you're drunk. Like you don't know where you are, it's adorable." Corey released a low chuckle from his throat. His eyes wandered across Joey's body and face as if he were on display in some fucked up museum. All he felt was discomfort.

He wanted to resist and pull his head back away from Corey's grasp.

But he knew that Corey didn't like when he was hesitant.

Despite that, Joey clearly remembers Corey stating that he liked when he struggled.

They were different.

Corey's thumb then smoothly rubbed Joey's bruise that stood as clear as day at the current moment. Joey winced on impulse, his body scrunching up into a tense ball of fear. Too close to the wound.

Corey's dim eyes stared down at him emptily, his tone of voice in a hushed low grumble, conveying nothing relating to any sort of true apparent feelings. "This looks pretty bad... Does it still hurt?" The edges of his lips curled into a smirk. 

The smirk that Joey originally went mad for. It was irresistible when it was used in a playful and teasingly manner.

Joey shook his head as a reply, not being able to speak any words back. He was too fixated on the tension that overwhelmed his body that almost caused his bones to creak if they'd moved.

The strong scent of alcohol and a sense of fear addressed themselves to the drummer when Corey lurked in closer. He was now nearly an inch away from Joey's knees, standing up straight to glower downwards.  
Suddenly, pain pulsed through Joey's face when Corey slowly pushed his thumb into the wound. The pressure used was of the strength to lay a bruise if Joey hadn't already had one there. His thumb smudged the mark roughly as if he were trying to wipe a stain off of a mirror. Which was inaccurate, even figuratively, because Corey would love to see it shown on his face.

His doing.

Which is what made it so exciting to him. Joey knew it.

Joey's eyes squeezed shut, resisting the urge to scream in pain. His shoulders raised tensely. The pain was unbearable and when Corey noticed this, he took note of the reaction and rubbed deeper. Slowly. Agonizingly slow. 

He heard Corey laugh through the music which he eventually managed to tune out.

He didn't like that laugh and suddenly, he wanted the music back, but ten times louder so he wouldn't have to hear it again.

Joey couldn't take it anymore. He was about to explode, release the pent up scream he held in through the suffering he endured, rip away Corey's hands then run as fast as his little legs could take him.

Far away from where eyes were not aware of the situation. 

He was so close to acting on those thoughts. His fingers twitched, resisting the act because Corey wouldn't like that.

He wouldn't like it at all. 

Thankfully, Corey released the grip his finger held on the bruise and laughed further, his hand now gently caressing Joey's cheek. "You're such a pussy. I wasn't even pressing that hard."

Joey's hands began to tremble as they held each other in his lap. His knuckles were white during the pain, but now they just shook there profusely with fear. Fear.

Was he supposed to feel fear?

Maybe thats what Corey wanted.

He was the dominant one, after all. 

"You're pretty quiet tonight, huh?" The singer grinned, taking Joey's chin in his toughly crafted hands, forcing him to lift his head upwards. It was unnecessarily rough, a pull to the touch. "Let me make you speak up a little." His fingers slowly and eerily traced themselves across Joey's jaw then down his cold neck that was now open to view without the jumpsuit's collar in the way. 

He was so focused on that touch that he'd completely forgotten where Corey's other hand had been wandering, which was under his sleeve shirt to lightly graze his hand up and down Joey's ribcage. It made his breath stiffen uncomfortably. He wanted to stand up. 

Joey shuddered and wanted a sinkhole to open up underneath him, tear through the building just to devour him into the depths of earth so that he wouldn't have to endure this. He didn't like this touching. It didn't feel real, it certainly did not feel loving. 

The kiss was just as bad. 

He swore that Corey had bitten his lip, or perhaps he'd just been kissing too hard. Ferociously. The hand up his shirt was not forgotten. The hand raised and began to pull at one of Joey's nipples slyly. 

He was full of dread. 

Dread, shame, despair.

Corey certainly did not give two fucks about who saw. 

Joey liked this about him before, when they'd only kiss and hold hands. He loved how brave his boyfriend was, to possibly sacrifice friendships and perspectives for him, it made his heart feel whole and loved.

It was completely the opposite now, the limits have been beyond breached.

He fucking hated it. 

Joey wanted to close in on himself which he tried, his body seeming to attempt to make itself as small as possible by scrunching up into an uneasy ball of surfacing shame that quickly made itself stand out as he was fondled.

Corey probably enjoyed the attention of his little toy being played with in public, like a dog chewing on a bone in front of a group of other canines. Chewing, biting, spitting, slobbering. Like a dog. 

Suddenly, Corey pulled back completely. Spit connected their wet lips, Joey panting with his lips partially opened for a moment to recover. Corey's facial expression seemed serious now, the smirk almost vanished all together. His stare was dark. It made Joey's lips quiver. He felt his body quake with fear.

"Come on, we'll continue somewhere private, I'm not a fan of the staring." Corey lowly spoke, gripping Joey's wrist in his palm. He hustled him upwards, yanking the small drummer up from the bench he was seated at. It was swift and quick, Joey had no time to properly react. 

Joey would pull back and fight with all he had if it were other circumstances such as with Mick, but Corey would only fight harder.

He'd pull harder and even shout until he got his way.

He was dragged off behind Corey, a new bruise expected to bloom in his wrist that the singer seemed to strangle with one hand. 

After Joey began tripping and stumbling over his own feet, Corey insisted on continuing anyway and pulled him along nonetheless.

Joey watched others helplessly as they drank, partied and danced. He wished that someone would realize that he did not want this. That he was being hauled along against his own will. He almost wanted to call out for help. As if anyone would care to listen, he supposed. 

But it was worth a shot.

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing except for a faint whimper emulated from his throat. A small, weak cry of an injured animal that barely clung onto life. 

That's what it sounded like.

It was pointless.

Soon, they were consumed by an empty nearby hallway's darkness, the only light source that brightened their faces was the cheap lamps that hung from the ceiling which quickly flickered so fast that you could barely notice it'd been stuttering unless you focused on it.

But Joey tried to focus on anything else except for what Corey had been putting him through for his own selfish desires.

He took note of the flickers. Especially when they flashed on Corey's face.

Corey crept his two hands up Joey's shirt yet again. "You'll make some noise for me now, yeah?" He seemed confident as he caressed Joey's chest, trailing down his stomach with ease. Joey shivered as he was pressed against the wall by Corey whose sickening scent of alcohol seemed to wreak harder as he loomed over the smaller one. "I don't like when you're so quiet, you know that already..."

His body couldn't help but react. He wished it wouldn't. It'd only one sided-ly bribe Corey into pushing himself onto the younger man further. The arching of his back, the shivers and the short breaths when Corey eased his hands into the waist line of his pants, it told him to continue.

He truly wished this wouldn't happen. Not here.

When their eyes met- Did Corey see something other than blatant shock and fear, or was what only he wanted to see visible to him? Was Joey's eyes half lidded with pleasure through his eyes? He couldn't possibly be seeing the reality, if he had been, maybe he'd sense a feeling of remorse. 

Because they were wide, frightened and confused.

He didn't understand.

Corey's lips clashed upon his own yet again.

When Joey didn't reply to the kisses with his own tongue rolling inside Corey's mouth as the singer had been in his own, his hand slithered up towards his throat and wrapped around there firmly enough to shake Joey into obeying, as a warning sign of what was to come if he didn't straighten up immediately.  
So Joey squinted his eyes shut as if it'd block it out, and his tongue hesitantly rubbed Corey's who'd been quick to sabotage the inside of his mouth. Invade, violate, destroy...

 

...Invade, violate, destroy...

...Invade, violate, destroy...

Repeat.

Wasn't that the cycle he'd been pondering about this entire night?

A hand groped his groin and he closed his eyes harder. Tears began to brim the ends of his eyelids. They felt ready to leak. Would that make him stop?

Would tears of mixed emotions bring him to come to his senses?

Was this love or was Joey just overreacting? 

"Let me hear you breathe."

Please.

*  
Mick made his way across the room back to where Joey had been patiently sitting, waiting for him to arrive to escort him back to the hotel, in a sense.

He didn't want him to go alone. He was small, far shorter than everyone around him to the point where it was hard to pick him out from a crowd. Those thoughts were just things he had to sacrifice Joey's pride for. He knew that Joey was able to protect and defend himself in any situation, he was a grown man after all. Mick just couldn't help but worry.

It's not like Joey was frail and fragile, physically. He was fit, the quick drumming playing a part in shaping his slender but softly sculpted form. Like a painting out of a gallery, his body that he caught occasional glimpses of in the bus when they'd change clothes in the same hallway- it was like a painting to him.  
He was still feminine though, despite the additional strength he carried, especially femininely structured in the hips and face-- hah...

Mick couldn't help but notice.

Anyway.

However, mentally... Mick was sure that the topic was miles away from the physical aspect's pros.

He wasn't sure how much Joey could take if he'd gotten into a tangled situation that he couldn't get out of. 

Joey could break if not tended to immediately.

Safe and sound was all Mick had wanted Joey to be. At ease and happy. Most importantly, healthy. He could point out if he was healthy or not, sickness was not something to easily block out with lies as he did with happiness.

His current state was anything but.

He now had one job, and one job only. It was to take Joey to the hotel to rest.

So he cleared his thoughts and walked further into the direction opposite from Shawn but towards Joey's spot where he sat.

The obnoxiously loud tunes had now been screaming even louder, the volume knob on the speakers probably cranked up to the max, it seemed. Drunk assholes being selfish. Not everyone wanted to have a shitty soundtrack blaring through their ears until they bleed. Mick was one of those people.

To top the terrible night off, the place also took hold of the stench of booze, sweat and perfume from nearby groupies.

As long as he didn't smell the scent of sex, it was tolerable.

He just wanted to take Joey and leave already.

"You're Mick Thomson, right?" A short brunette groupie asked the guitarist with a grasp of his sweaty palm. Her grip tightened when he turned around. 

"No." With that, he removed his hand from her grasp and continued walking.

She whined and followed behind him in pursuit. "You don't have to be such a bitch, you know." Her high pitched voice made Mick's head ache with each word she spoke in that high octave which was most likely fake, a lure that she thought was cute and attractive. "Please talk to me!" 

She sounded like an annoying woman from some advertisement on the radio trying to sell him pairs of cheap heels.

The groupie's bracelets rattled as she held onto his arm in an attempt to get him to stop walking, but he persisted on ignoring her. 

He hated the touchy ones.

He'd only stop for someone he cared about and this chick was below any sense of care or even attention he'd given to anyone before.

She huffed angrily.

"Fine, I'm finding Chris then. He won't be as fucking rude as you are." Her high voice was as Mick suspected, an act, when it dropped an octave or so to a normal tone. 

He stopped his strut, pointed into the direction where he believed Chris had been and shrugged her off. "He's that way."

"Fuck you!" Her heels clicking signaled the departure.

Fina-fucking-ly. His blood simmered.

As he migrated from one corner of the room to the next, he noticed from a distance that Joey was no longer seated at the bench where he'd been previously before Mick had taken his eyes off of the smaller man.

He didn't proceed further. 

His pulse suddenly began to quicken in his veins as worry slammed into him like a truck.

Joey could be anywhere. 

He was already weak as it was. Anyone could bother with him and he couldn't fight back.

But he also could have walked off without Mick because he'd taken too long.

Maybe Joey believed from the bottom of his heart that Mick really wasn't worth waiting around for.

One or the other.

He went with the second option, it just seemed so much more believable to Mick who knew that Joey simply wasn't fond of him anymore.

It was likely to be true and he had evidence to support his claim.

Mick remembered hearing Joey rant about how he could do things on his own, and that he didn't need anyone to hold his little hands like a toddler and guide him around. He'd completely went off, and Mick, from the sidelines, completely understood where he was coming from. Although, Joey most likely suggested the unfair treatment was because of his height, or something typical among the things he hated about himself.

The guitarist just hoped that Joey didn't think that upon him. 

Mick only wished to help. He didn't want to see him hurt, hear him hurt or be responsible for allowing it to happen.

He felt bad enough as it was.

Mick just wasn't good enough, it seemed.

But he shouldn't get his mind so deep into his heart, so he veered it away.

It was alright.

If Joey had strutted off by himself, then that was fine with Mick. He couldn't control his decisions. The last thing he wanted to be was controlling. He would never allow himself to end up like Corey towards the young drummer.

He'd rather die.

Mick should just leave as well. He didn't want to fucking stay there any longer.

He shook his head and turned for the entrance of the room, but a sixth sense told him to continue looking.

He didn't know.

*

Joey really couldn't seem to escape the hold. Corey's grip hardened whenever the thought of somehow slipping away from the singer's grasp crossed his mind, as if he could hear Joey's every thought.

It felt like that sometimes to Joey. That Corey somehow knew everything and found a reason to pick at the exact problem Joey let his mind wander upon, as if he'd do it on purpose just to spite him.

He hated it.

He hated the feeling.

The touches traveling across his body, the tongue in his mouth as he was forced to kiss back because the dangerously close grip on his throat was still apparent.  
He tilted his head because Corey wanted him to.

The breathing that exited Joey's lungs became heavy and dragged, like a heavy body bag being slowly dragged down a flight of stairs. The dragged scraping noise was the shaky inhale, then the thump that symbolized the release of the pent up oxygen.

Everything felt so heavy.

He couldn't support himself anymore.

Corey broke the elongated kiss to lick and bite all over Joey's pale neck. 

He hated it so fucking much.

His body seemed to like it in contrast. 

This is what his body craved after the lack of attention it'd received for so long.

But he only wished that it would end.

When Corey's hand slithered its way back into Joey's pants and felt his cock, he couldn't help but release a soft breathy moan. 

"Fuck... Finally. You're such a slut... You really do like it, don't you?"

no. 

Joey felt ashamed of himself. He wanted to die.

His legs seemed to give out from underneath him, knees trembling before feeling too weak to continue on.

Corey pressed his body onto Joey, using his knee to somewhat hold Joey's small frame in place from dropping completely as his teeth dug into Joey's neck. 

"Corey..." His plead came out like a whine. 

"Yes, baby?"

"Please..."

"Please what, huh?"

Joey felt sick inside. If he could puke anything else up- anything that was in his stomach, he would. 

"You don't have to answer, I know what you want already, you hungry little slut." Corey laughed and bit down hard enough to draw blood. Which it did. He felt it stickily slide down his neck.

A small scream ripped its way out of Joey's throat as his body shook profusely.

"Cute."

'Please... Please, fucking get me out of this.' Joey thought.

As Joey had mentioned earlier about Corey somehow reading his body language or his mind, his bite hardened.

He felt hopeless. Fucking gone. He couldn't even feel anything that wasn't the striking pain or the terrible pleasure from his groin.

It was almost as if he was floating.

Was there, but not at the same time.

He wanted it to stop.

Please stop.

Someone!

Mick!

*

Mick had a bad feeling all of a sudden. 

*  
Tears freely leaked from his eyes as Corey seemed to suck the blood straight from his neck. It was fucking weird as much as it was painful. He continued to believe that someone would help him.

 

*

He checked the bathroom. No sign of Joey. He could have just left already.

*

Mick! Mick was still here- but he didn't want to get his hopes up. 

 

What were the chances that Mick would interrupt them before Corey had actually gone too far?

He was already so far gone and drunk that Joey was certain he wouldn't spare another thought before ripping his pants right off and fucking him in the hallway.  
He was afraid of that.

So afraid.

He was rendered defenseless.

*

"Have you seen Jo? Was supposed to take him back to the hotel," Mick asked Paul as quietly as possible over the music, noticing that Jim was no longer present. "I asked everyone. They said no."

"Joey? Yeah, actually."

Mick's ears managed to drown out the music for a split second. "Really?"

"Mhm. Corey was with him."

Mick's brows furrowed. "Fuck."

"Yeah, man. They're around somewhere, though. Me and Jimmy were talking before he left to get more drinks and when I looked back, they were gone."

That was all the guitarist needed to know.

"Thanks," He said before turning on his heels, only to be interrupted by Paul who called after him.

"Wait, Mick."

He turned back towards the dark haired bassist.

"I'm glad you're really trying to help him out. He needs this, the forgiveness and the care."

Mick gazed at Paul thoughtfully. 

"Keep doing what you're doing."

Mick nodded.

Paul smiled at him, "If you need anything, I'm here."

He was thankful for those words and actually felt as if he could trust Paul's advice, which wasn't a thing he'd usually done. 

Sincerely, he smiled back.

Paul sure had a special spark about him. He really was a caring guy.

"Thanks, man."

"No problem, Mick."

Now for the hard part.

*

Joey's eyes squinted shut when Corey's hand pawed at his groin.

*

He didn't know where else to check.

*

Somehow, Joey managed to cry in silence without choking up sobs.

 

*

Corey. That piece of shit.

 

*

"Hey."

Joey's eyes widened.

*

Corey seemed to appear bothered when he'd turned back to make eye contact with the man behind the deep voice that caused the interruption.

Mick's anger nearly took control all together.

He managed to contain it with a cool tone.

Joey did not look like he was enjoying himself whatsoever. Wet strings of tears leaked from his wide eyes that were plastered with shock, his cheeks the color of shame.

He felt glad to interrupt, the sight of Corey alone making him disgusted to the point where he had to clench his fists to contain the rage that fumed within himself. 

He only held himself back for Joey.

The drummer was already so frightened.

Time to lie to prevent a beating.

He mentally bit his tongue so hard that it bled.

"Shawn said that Joey's needed for some interview in the front of the building A.S.A.P. with me," He shrugged and crossed his arms in the most normal manner humanly possible for Mick whilst concealing the grimace he held within himself.

Joey's stare remained on him, seeming ready to shatter.

Poor thing.

Corey sighed, clearly annoyed.

"You fuckin' serious? Ugh." Corey groaned and held his head in his open palm that had been previously caressing Joey. "Can't it be scheduled tomorrow or something?"

There was no way around this. "Nope."

Mick let a glimpse of Joey's face slip once more. 

 

He seemed relieved. 

Corey hesitated and resisted giving Joey up so easily. 

Mick wanted to swoop in like an eagle and snatch Joey from him and fly far fucking away.

"The manager wants him down there now."

"Fuck the manager." Corey moved back towards Joey.

This time, Joey made his move.

Mick wanted to smirk.

*

Joey shook his head slowly, eyes being closed tightly. He didn't want to look up at Corey after doing that.

When Corey didn't respond, it suddenly felt even more stuffy and uncomfortable, as if he was breathing in sulfur. He was too afraid to open his eyes to meet Corey's when he'd raised his hands to weakly move him backwards.

"Sorry..."

Joey paused.

"I really have to go." 

He lightly brought his hands up to Corey's shoulders to push him away. The singer seemed to be tamed suddenly, willingly moving back with his brows furrowed and annoyed.

Joey felt overwhelmingly compelled to run into Mick's arms as soon as he stepped away from Corey. Safe arms to barricade him from all the hurt. 

It was the first time he's ever rejected Corey like that in a while.

*

Mick waited for Joey across the hall as he shakily made his way towards him. Corey marched off, to most likely have a word with Shawn about this whole ordeal.  
His frustration was evident through the stomping and the large sigh.

He could sense that Joey needed support after dealing with Corey in that way.

When Joey wiped his eyes free of tears and was close enough to Mick- and especially after Corey was far from sight, Mick wrapped an arm around Joey's shoulders and pulled him close into a half hug.

Mick felt Joey freeze up before hugging him back tightly, thin arms wrapping around Mick's torso. He was still shaking, Mick could feel it. 

It was silent for a few moments- the warmth of the hug made the two melt like thick caramel.

The tense feeling was now gone. It was over.

Mick was so glad that Joey was in his arms now, safe and protected from harm.

He wished it would stay this way...

"Where's the interview at that you were talking about...?" Joey whispered when they pulled away from each other.

"At the hotel," Mick stated sarcastically. 

Joey looked down at his feet. "Oh... I see." A small smile crept onto his face, realizing that it was just a lie to get Corey away.

It made him so happy to see Joey smile, the expense seemed so worth the trouble.

The backlash coming from such a controversial lie would be worth it too.

Lies only get you so far.

He was sure that Joey knew that as well.


	5. FANART OF CHAPTER 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FANART

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERES THIS AMAZING PIECE BY MY WONDERFUL FRIEND @TheArkOfVoid !!!! LOOK---  
> I WAS ScrREAMING WHEN I FIRST SEEN THIS LIKE- ITS BEAUTIFUL I WAS SCREECHING  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS AGAIN SIS,, IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME THAT YOU ENJOYED IT SO MUCH THAT YOU TOOK TIME OUT OF YOUR DAY FOR THIS-- <3 <3  
> Here's the scene in chapter one that this is:  
> When he opened his eyes, the hold on his collar tightened and he was greeted with a glare that was so intense to the point where Corey stared straight into his wide eyes and through his soul, almost able to see and even feel every aspect of his fear that was presently held. Joey's other palm was pressed against the cold tiles of the floor to support him, preventing him from falling backwards.  
> <3  
> Please care to follow @theark_ofvoid on Instagram, she's a very talented artist as well as a super sweet friend!! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changes Chapter 5 will be up soon enough-- I've been stalling and I'm ashamed of myself for doing so but I really hope that I can work on it further- it's been a while!  
> Please stay tuned!! <3


	6. im sad pt 5: Bold Exit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long wait!!!! <3 <3  
> I really don't want to wait too long and stall to post- I personally don't like when authors do that when I'm so immersed in a story so I'll try my best not to do that, as hard as it is not to ;w;  
> I wrote these scenes too long so it's now its own chapter!  
> My usual limit is 4k-5k but this one is only 3 something, but I'll try to write the next one a little longer.  
> Please enjoy!!! <3 <3 <3  
> also shout out to the church a road down from my house im outside now and its sO LOUD--- THE CHURCH MUSIC IS BOOMING--- ALL ATHEISTS ARE QUAKING I CAN FEEL IT---  
> just had to put that there because I have to tell sOMEONE.

Joey didn't know how to feel. All he acknowledged at the given moment was that his neck was in an unbearable amount of pain despite Mick's best efforts to comfort him and stop the bleeding. 

Immediately after the incident where Mick had stumbled across the dilemma with Corey, they traveled towards the restroom - Joey's seemingly 5th visit during their short stay there- for him to get cleaned up with the use of the best of their abilities, medically speaking.

The imprint on his neck pulsed with sheer pain. He was surprised that Corey had managed to draw blood and especially shocked that he drank his fucking blood like some sort of demon. 'Vampire' would be too typical of a comparison to use.

He heard the swallows and felt the constant bobbing of Corey's throat following after each thirsty mouthful slithered through his teeth which proved the haunting suspicion.  
He felt like the life was being drained out of him then and there.

The aftermath of it made the feeling continue on despite the fact that he'd escaped some time ago.

 

He was so fucking glad that Mick intervened. So fucking glad.

Imagining what would've dragged on if he hadn't stepped in was too frightening to ponder on for too long.

Joey's legs still managed to shake fearfully even after he'd walked off safely with Mick, as if Corey would turn right around on his heels and harass him further, snatched forcefully from Mick's warm grasp and stomped away as he'd been hastily dragged only moments prior.

He didn't want that to ever occur again. He was only lucky this single time, where Mick had interrupted only the beginning of Corey's scheme. It wouldn't be the same after this coincidence where he just appeared at the right moment.

Horrifying to think about.

Mick gathered a wad of tissues from the napkin dispenser and pressed it against Joey's wound to falter the bleeding that only seemed to drain further with added time.

He heard Mick sigh, not one of frustration but what was hinted to be utter sadness or worry. A soft, pitiful noise. Gentle as well. It aligned with his touch, gentle as he could possibly be. Even the physical pressure added onto the wound was caring to match.

Joey's head drooped with a sense of shame on his shoulders. Mick tended to him as if he were an injured kitten. He didn't like to be treated like a little innocent child who had just scathed his knee, but he really felt that on the inside, he needed that sort of attentive care at the moment.

He really did appreciate Mick and what he was doing tonight. 

Was he ever this kind to him in a while? Perhaps. 

He just wanted to be treated nicely without being acknowledged as weak or pitiful.

Sometimes he just felt like he needed something- or someone- to lean on without the fear of that steady hold snapping to send him falling into a fit of despair- back into the pit of this isolation he seemed to endure for so long with Corey.

Corey... Certainly was something else at first glance through the glass separating the media from reality.

You could only observe so much through the naked eye. Cameras and television can only give you so much to judge off of. Even a simple smile- It wasn't enough to know a person.

Joey knew Corey too well. 

Every single woman he'd hit on and flirt with- they knew nothing behind the curtains. They probably didn't even realize that Corey had been with him in the first place. Which was respectively understandable if they truly had no clue- Their relationship was closed and not available to the public's vision.

He should've at least said something, though.

Joey knew Corey's ways that he'd studied and picked up on since the very beginning. 

Nobody else seemed to brush onto the fact that Corey is very secretive and knows how to lie, knows how to maneuver his way through a conversation to avert the control of the flow to himself and also how to sweep anyone off their feet in his own ways.

Joey had memorized all of it, but somehow- that gets no recognition and sees no light whatsoever.

Corey doesn't care about how indulged he is with him. Fascinated by his actions in so many ways. His speech, the smoothness of every word he purred- It made him feel as if he were lucid dreaming this entire time.

The terrible thing is that...

With lucid dreams,

Often, there comes a nightmare.

Knocked off of his spiral of thoughts, Mick's hands were suddenly holding him up.

"Shit, Joey. You alright?"

He realized that his legs suddenly felt weak yet again, furthermore, his breath seemed to be caught in his lungs- each inhale was quick, a heavy fast exhale followed.

In exchange of those thoughts of Corey that seemed to invade his mind too often, Joey's body decided that it was about time to surrender.

"Yeah, Yeah... I just..." Joey murmured, eyes drooping. Mick's sturdy hands picked him up by the waist with ease and carefully positioned him to sit on the sink for support. He sunk down and onto the drain, his knees being lifted by the ledge. 

Joey watched as Mick made sure that the sink's water pipe wasn't digging into his spine- It was thankfully far away from Joey's back for comfort. "Hope this is okay," Mick softly spoke and proceeded to dab a napkin onto Joey's neck.

He simply nodded and looked at his shoes, hunching forward the slightest in a more comfortable position.

Mick's fingers sometimes touched Joey's cold skin, and he'd somehow manage to mentally shiver each time his nails grazed him while he worked.

His breath could be heard as the bathroom's containment managed to catch the softest echo.

It was silent now, they both did not speak.

However, the silence was not uncomfortable in any way, it was subtle and relaxed. For once that night, he'd actually felt as if he could use the term 'relaxed' to describe his current mood. 

Joey knew that Mick wasn't much of a talker at times, and it was apparent here. 

They both shared a mutual understanding that the two of them were quiet by nature.

It was... Rejuvenating, almost. 

The cold water on the face of his neck seemed to cool his nerves down and lower his overall temperature.

Comfort.

Ease.

Relaxation.

Truly a luxury.

"There." Mick threw the last of the napkins away and began to wash his hands free of any of Joey's blood on his fingers in the neighboring sink.

 

He didn't seem to be bothered by the fluids, which was a relief for Joey.

"Want to head out now? Whenever you're ready."

He thought for a second and took in the sweet subtle quietness of the area. He'd have to walk back out into all of the eerie noise and obnoxious people who are far gone from the liquor, the smells and most importantly- he could possibly run into Corey again.

Oh god.

He could have already realized that the story Mick told him was a blatant lie- It could all go down the drain. He didn't want to walk outside.

Not ever. 

If Corey was out there, he preferred to stay far, far away from him for the time being. 

Drunk Corey was not pleasant.

Willing to do anything without a second thought about the consequences to come.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Joey's hands seemed to vibrate in fear. 

Mick's hand seemed to try to comfort.

His words followed his efforts. "It'll be okay... We'll be out in no time." Mick seemed to understand and see through his eyes and into his fears that haunted him now. "Don't worry about him."

Joey blinked rapidly a few times to regain his vision that was slowly blurring. Instantly, he nodded and hesitantly slid off of the sink to demonstrate to Mick that he was fine. "I know," he quietly managed to say.

Mick stood patiently as Joey washed his face for the last time before drying it and tossing the napkin in the trash bin.

"I'll follow you- I barely know my way around here," Joey mumbled and nervously slid his hands into the pockets of his pants. He grinned the slightest and added, "Besides, you'll be easier to follow and spot in a crowd rather than you following me, we'd lose each other in no time." At least it'd lighten the mood and somehow allow a slither of confidence to sneak its way into Joey's mind by lowering his own confidence about his height.

He knew that Mick didn't tease him for his height, so he was now willing to lower his shields a little.

Mick's chuckle made him smile wider. The guitarist took the opportunity and replied, "Damn right," with a smile on his face that Joey could hear despite having only his wide back to see.

"Lets go." Mick said a pinch more enthusiastically as he walked outside. 

Joey glanced at his reflection in the large mirrors on the wall one last time before following in pursuit. 

He kept track of the back of Mick's head in an attempt to keep him in sight. 

Back into the hoard of thirsty, intoxicated people who adorned the same terrible backstage room that Corey had first came onto him in. People now flooded in by the minute.

He wondered how it'd gotten so crowded in such a short amount of time. 

The clock was ticking now.

They had to get out, and fast, before Corey caught eye that they were still here.

He was pushed around by limbs as he followed behind Mick- Even through the hallways that they shuffled through.

At some point, he'd lost Mick in the crowd. Fear crashed into him in a split second as soon as he'd lost sight of him, as if his heart had been buried alive and had been trying to break through the coffin- pounding on his ribcage.

It was all a mess. 

He wanted to call out, but that would bring too much attention.

All hope seemed to be gone and far diminished.

Until a large hand found its way over his wrist.

Corey?

\---

Mick had thought that Joey had been following behind him this entire time- But he turned around to let him know that they were close to the exit, but he was gone by the time he turned his head.

He only met eyes with a girl with caked on purple eyeshadow.

Scanning the scene, Joey was especially hard to figure out from a crowd- especially when he was so far beneath everybody that you could only sometimes see the top of his head.

Just as Joey said in the bathroom.

He took a few steps against the flow of people who were desperately trying to find their ways around the building.

Thankfully, the top of Joey's head was in plain sight, the somehow always perfect split apparent.

He reached out for him because they'd lost the connection they had when they'd first originally left the bathrooms- the perseverance and a distinct sense of direction- but he knew that Joey felt alone now.

Even just this incident- as small as it is, he'd endured far too much to shrug it off.

His hand met Joey's small cold one immediately, feeling the shuffle of Joey's bracelets hit his wrist. A tough tug of resistance followed after the contact. The drummer's tiny palms were sweating and he almost slipped out of his gentle grip.

Quickly, his eyes met Mick's and he watched as the fear quickly vanished as soon as it appeared.

That was a good sign.

\----

The rest of the walk towards the exit was astoundingly quick as much as it was scary.

When he seen the bolded red EXIT sign, it gave him hope.

He wished that problems had exit signs leading to doors he could easily walk through to escape issues in his life.

Mick got them both out of the building in time, glad that he knew his way around. 

In all luck, they did not spot Corey. Hopefully, he'd lost interest in the whole issue with the interview fib and had decided to go back to spending his own quality time with other women instead of pushing his nose into the lie to figure out the truth.

They were both outside now, walking beside each other. The cold that the wind carried in gusts made Joey's hair flow. It made him shiver when the breeze flushed against his neck, pinching his wound despite the cool hands that grazed the rest gently. 

The wind was powerful in all sense of the entity, but it could be as smooth and gentle as the brush of fingertips on his body when provoked to do so. 

It took a strong current to maneuver and control it, to shape it.

Reminded him of...

\----

Joey's hair moved with the wind like a Norse goddess.

Mick thought he looked like the most breathtakingly enchanting thing on this planet. As he always had, really.

No matter the dark circles under his eyes, or the marks on his face and neck especially, Mick thought he always looked good.

Unbelievably good.

He glanced down at Joey. He grasped his hand in the other nervously, fumbling with his fingers as they waited for the taxi that Mick had called to arrive on time, because now, they were out in the open.

Mick could tell that Joey feared Corey on the inside.

There was no way he could believe that the drummer would allow anyone to take advantage of him in the ways that Corey easily could.

But Corey...

Corey had Joey under his spell.

When Mick had glanced down at him a second time around, he was surprised to have caught him staring right back up at him. Flustered, Joey was forced to quickly avert his gaze elsewhere in a panic, anywhere that wasn't back to Mick's eyes.

Cute.

Mick nodded at the discomfort and held back a grin, staring back up at the road.

He heard Joey let out a soft sigh from beside him and he couldn't help but chuckle at that.

\---

The night was all too wild for Joey to possibly comprehend at this point in time, he'd finally realized this after stepping into the cab once it had pulled up directly in front of the both of them, just as Mick had directed on the phone. 

A shy smile formed on Joey's face when Mick had kindly opened the door for him, he dizzily stepped in slowly. The door closed and then all of a sudden, Joey felt a sad hint of loneliness just by not having Mick there despite the short disappearance he held as he walked around the cab.

Mick climbed in through the door opposite of his and had to duck his head noticeably in order to avoid hitting his head on the top of the doorway, making Joey hide a giggle with his hand. Joey really did admire his height, as clunky as it was sometimes.

The guitarist scooted further into the middle of the backseat and closer to Joey. He didn't know why he felt something strange stir within him when he now took the time to study the other's face. 

Green and red lights highlighted his features. Strong eyes that could break glass depending on the intensity of the stare, a solid jawline hiding under a black lengthy beard that made him look more manly than Joey could ever be. 

His profile view was astonishing.

Mick closed the door with a click and the lights that illuminated his face shut out completely, face now dark due to the tinted windows.

He looked away just in time, down at his hands.

"Where to?" The cab driver asked, tilting his head to the backseat of the taxi where the two were, hands resting on the bottom of the wheel. 

Mick took a brief look at Joey, his eyes mentally making a decision. Joey wondered what he was thinking about at that moment, Mick was sometimes a real mystery.

His attention snapped away from Joey and back to the driver with a confidently low voice, "A diner nearest to the hotel."

The driver murmured a simple, "Alright," and pulled swiftly out of his stationary place to wheel the vehicle onto the road.

Joey looked up at Mick in a state of confusion that crossed his mind and face included. "We're going to eat at 2 AM?" He was going to wake up feeling even worse.

"Thought you'd be hungry because you did empty everything in your stomach earlier," answered Mick who stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. "Besides, we can talk for a bit."

"Mm..." Joey hummed as his eyes lowered, now staring out the window to keep his attention on anything that wasn't the memories of what happened before he was saved.

Mick took the silence as an opportunity to continue speaking, "We really need to talk, Joey... To sort things out." He sighed now, making him let out a small sigh as well.

"I know." Joey just wanted to rest to get the night over with, but he couldn't help but feel thankful for Mick's kind offer. 

He knew he had the best intentions. 

It was quiet once more. 

He tried to think about the soft purr of the vehicle's engine, or the brands of cars that passed them from left and right on the lanes. The pausing at red lights, the pushing and pulling motion of the gravity when they'd stop then go.

Anything.

To try to keep himself from passing out, or think about the negatives in his life.

"Mind if I turn on the radio for news? There's some traffic," The man piped up from the driver's seat after seemingly ages of silence. It woke him up the slightest.

Mick responded with an audible, "Go ahead," and the radio was switched on.

The woman through the speaker spoke about the light wash of rain, then the traffic on the road. 

Joey drifted off further into sleep, eyes half lidded and lips agape the slightest as he clung to consciousness the best that he could.

It was just a long, long day...

A nap wouldn't hurt. 

"You can lean on me to rest until we get there. Might be a while." Joey's eyes widened at Mick's request, immediately composing himself by sitting up straight. Mick smiled.

"Oh... Thank you," The drummer softly spoke, scooting closer to Mick to hesitantly lean on his shoulder.

It was so comfortable.

Especially because Mick was tall, his shoulders perfectly lined with Joey's face and it felt like a pillow. 

He tried not to blush when Mick's arm moved upwards to comfortably rest on the surface of the seats, the action causing Joey to be moved closer to his chest. 

Now, his heart felt like fire, hammering in his chest and it felt so loud that he hoped Mick couldn't hear it. Especially because he could hear the pulsing in his ears.

He just didn't know why. 

Joey was tired, nothing seemed to matter now.

He snuggled into the warmth of Mick's jacket.

Mick's slow breathing eased him to sleep, no matter how flustered he had been.

It was so nice...

When did he ever feel so... 

Safe...

And protected...

Some sort of slow relaxing music played in the background, the driver softly humming along to the tune.

So thankful....

And....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO I FORGOT,, NOTE,,  
> My boyfriend typed this on my computer:  
> "mick dabs at corey, offending him. in return,he tposes"  
> That is his additional bit to the fic, had to mention it.


	7. im sad pt 6: Prolonging The Conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sO SO SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT
> 
> I've not been very confident in my writing for a bit but I decided today that I would finally publish this chapter. I wrote basically all of it today because I had nothing better to do ! I hope it was worth it!  
> Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support so far!  
> I'm deeply sorry if this chapter isn't of my normal quality. I tried to make this one as quick as possible so I didn't proof read but note that I will most likely be editing this tomorrow!  
> It is currently 11:24 PM right now and I'm surviving on candy alone. Reeee... I'll sleep right after this.  
> Instagram is broken for now but I will surely post about this chapter update when I get it working again!  
> Please enjoy!! <3 <3 <3  
> ALSO NOTE: This is a Mick only chapter which means I didn't swap the POVS as I usually do with this story. POV swap in the next chapter though!!  
> ANOTHER NOTE: This chapter is mostly based off of conversation as I tried to work on the flow and how to write it. <3

Mick watched Joey sleep under his arm like a small animal with no sharp claws to defend itself with. He looked to need protection, which Mick easily obliged to supply for him. 

Joey's pink lips were sweetly parted as he breathed ever so softly. His lashes were thick, gently closed without any sort of tense worry which he often held visible. The previous wash of blush that Joey clearly held over his cheeks when he had first progressed closer to Mick had disappeared as soon as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep, embarrassment forgotten almost immediately as well as his consciousness in that gentle moment.

His thin arms were sleepily wrapped comfortably around Mick's waist. He held him close, the drummer's face buried in his chest.

Mick truly adored this, despite the fact that Joey would never do this consciously when he was aware and alert.

A hint of drool leaked from Joey's precious lips.

Mick wiped it away with his hand and onto his own pants to smear it off.

If he were with any other member of the band right now that was not Joey, he would tease them endlessly about how they slept like a child clinging onto their mother, and how they were like an infant because they sleepily drooled as much as those things puke up.

But Joey was different, in every sense of the word.

He was kind, he did not hurt anyone intentionally and most importantly, Joey was the most fragile of the nine, mentally and physically. He needed care after being hurt for so long.

Even though a comparison such as the teasing he'd mentioned as an example would be harmless, suggested that it was for jokes and fun, but that was only Mick's intentions and his side of the story. Joey would definitely take it another way and staple it in his head that it truly signified what he believed, despite it being the complete opposite reaction and purpose that Mick had desired.

He knew what Joey was going through, so he made it very clear that in no way did he want to hurt him. In knowing that, he only wished to build their relationship back up, not knock it down any further. That was his main plan.

Joey snuggled deeper into Mick's warm body underneath his arm, so he decided to pull him closer by his thin shoulders.

Mick wasn't blushing. No way. It was just... Hot in the taxi, the windows were closed after all. 

He looked out the window and onto the road to watch the cars go by slowly. 

The traffic had ceased, but was still clogged and loaded with other vehicles that impatiently sat in the rain to await the changing colors of the traffic lights which reflected hued lines onto the windshields.

They were getting close to their stop, he could feel it.

It was best to ask to confirm.

"Are we almost there?" Mick asked the taxi driver who kept his eyes on the road, focused. 

The driver nodded impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, real close. I'll tell ya when we get there."

Mick would be agitated as well towards the slow progression of traffic due to such an obstruction such as a car accident. He was glad that he hadn't been the one driving because he could currently feel contempt in such a comfortable position alongside Joey- it actually made him want the traffic to extend, just so that he could soak in this peaceful and especially rare time with the drummer like this.

"Alright."

Large raindrops pattered against the window mercilessly, falling heavier than before. The woman on the news earlier estimated that the showers would be addressed as a light and soft sprinkling drizzle, however it now seemed to increase in intensity as it basically poured from the heavy clouds that were dark in the sky.

The windshield wipers were on crack cocaine, rocking back and forth quickly at a very fast rate. (Mick had a retarded mind sometimes.)

He observed with partially tired but awake eyes as the droplets of rainwater splashed against the windows in a heavy storm, water bursting and splashing as soon as they hit the glass. It was satisfying to watch, it made Mick almost want to fall asleep beside Joey. Maybe relaxed was the correct term.

Mick was a terribly heavy sleeper though, the driver wouldn't be able to wake him up without assaulting him with a slap for him to regain his consciousness again. So he just managed to hold his eyes open.

He carefully reached into the pocket of his jacket for his phone in a way that would not disturb the other. His cellphone, which he'd now noticed after flipping it open, had received numerous missed messages and a few calls to add. 

Confused, he scanned through the notifications with his eyes and found that Paul and Sid had been trying to contact him.

Sid had only been drunkenly attempting to tell him a knock-knock joke... He ignored it and put priorities first, which was what Paul had to say.

They read, 

Paul

||"Hey, did you just leave with Joey?" ||

||"I'm kinda worried."||

||"Corey looked pissed and I think you're the reason."||

||"He's really mad."||

||"I'm watching him right now from the table and he's drinking himself to death."||

||"Wait, he's going back to some chicks."||

||"Well, shit."||

||"Hope you both are safe."||

||"Text me when you can."||

||"Wait, actually, call me." ||

Mick hadn't touched his phone since ages ago and it really came to show that he put most of his attention on Joey tonight, which was a good thing. Joey needed it most of all.

He typed back.

Paul

||"Yeah, I got him. Been in the cab for a while, going to grab ||  
|| some food. Joey's been throwing up all night. Thought ||  
|| he'd need a little something in his stomach before we ||  
|| go back." ||

|| "Some shit kind of happened earlier." ||

He checked on Joey who practically been laying on him carelessly but comfortably, his heart yearning to keep him safe just by thinking of the whole incident with Corey. 

Maybe Corey would have such a gruesome hangover the next morning that he would not be able to recall Mick taking Joey away from his grasp.

 

|| "But honestly, he's doing better. Don't worry." ||

Paul didn't seem to text back for a while which hinted that he was busy, most likely acting as the mother of the group, aiding fellow bandmates who were drunk off of their asses as he's always done when they were all out of it.

As a proficient way to pass time, he browsed through his phone's gallery. He would attempt to defeat Joey's remaining and long lasting record at Snake on his phone as a way to dethrone him, but he didn't feel like losing yet again.

He had many photos of his guitars throughout the years, old and used or shiny, slick and new. The long generation of guitars he has went through over time had seen their better days, such as in the photos here.

There were many selfies he'd been forced to be in - by Sid most of all- few that he was willingly apart of that wasn't against his own will.

Before, Joey was somewhat the selfie type. When they'd go out together, he would put on his light touch of face enhancing makeup that consisted of thick black eyeliner, mascara, dark eyeshadow and black lipstick in order to look as good as possible through his own eyes and take pictures with whoever he had been out with, Mick was usually there.

In Des Moines, Iowa, there wasn't many activities to take part in, nothing generally fun or interesting to do, other than raid the local record shop to find anything new, back in the day. They dreamt that their CDs would be hitting there, which they had in the near future.

He would visit Joey on a daily basis at his job at Musicland to talk and relax, usually until his shift was over, Craig coming along for the experience sometimes. It was the exact same situation relating to the drummer's time as an employee at Sinclair's Garage. Since very few customers came in at night during his chosen shift, he and Mick would sit on the counter beside the register and listen to death metal all night until his shift was finally over in the morning, each of them with one earphone in.

They had kissed during one of his shifts. Not like Joey had remembered it, despite it meaning everything to Mick. It broke his heart whenever he'd peek at his lips. 

After that period of time, they'd finally been able to go out on the road and tour with Slipknot, leaving Joey to branch out his interests and personality as he had finally began to experience life outside of that small gas station. Mick watched him spiral into something unique and especially beautiful.

His gallery was filled with pictures he'd taken with Joey since Sinclair's up until when they'd broken it off because of Corey intervening with what special relationship they had.

Pressing through old pictures he'd rarely look at seemed to hurt.

Joey on Mick's back, Joey posing on the counter of Sinclair's with Craig and one of Mick's friends beside him, at the store, sitting on the curb of a sidewalk, sitting at a playground at midnight while listening to music. Old, young things. 

He missed it so much with a burning aching that pressed at his chest.

It wouldn't be this way again. 

Never.

As much as he craved it.

He couldn't let it go. 

These pictures were bittersweet.

Out of anger, he'd foolishly deleted any nearly recent pictures of their closest moments illustrated through pictures.

At the time of Joey refusing to interact with Mick because of Corey- throwing him into a pit to rot for a cocky motherfucker that only showed him false love - it all mixed terribly with his crush on the small man, the pain being immense and awfully unbearable for him to take with the memories burdening him. 

He believed that erasing it all would ease the aching inside.

But now- he knew that remembering was far easier than forcing himself to forget some of the happiest times in his life.

He looked back at it all fondly, but yet, still drowning in sticky sorrow.

The driver's words discontinued the memories currently. "We're here, boys."

Mick looked up in shock, tears brimming his eyes, which he quickly took a realization to and wiped them away with his sleeve. "Ah. Alright." His eyes quickly glanced at the window, the restaurant's entrance being visible. Through the glass of the building, he could see that there was nobody present and sitting to eat. Perfect.

He now focused on waking Joey as gently as possible. "Jo. We're here." He nudged Joey's shoulder softly. "Wake up, we have to go." He grabbed his shoulder and slightly shook him awake. 

Joey visibly regained consciousness, groggily wiping his eyes which slowly opened at the disruptive motion that disturbed his rest. "What..."

"We're here, come on. We're gonna get you something to eat." Joey's look of exhausted confusion immediately shifted into shock when he'd realized that he was cuddling with his arms wrapped around Mick only moments prior. He quickly sat upright, his pale face heating once more. 

"Oh..." Joey covered his mouth and yawned before reaching over to his door's handle, pulling it open with a click. 

Mick quickly fished for his wallet from his pocket to pull out a twenty, handing it to the taxi driver. "Keep it."

He urgently pushed the twenty towards the driver, watching as he hesitantly took it. "Ight then. Thank you."

The door beside Mick's shut with a thud, so now Joey was waiting out in the rain for him. Mick hurried and exited the vehicle, feeling the rain drench his clothing immediately. He removed his warm jacket as the car drove off on its way to the intersection. Joey held his arms crossed, visibly shivering and twitching due to the sudden switch in temperatures.

Mick threw his jacket over Joey's shoulders in an attempt to shield him from the rainwater. "Hurry, hurry." Joey thankfully took the garment of clothing and pulled it close to him by the sleeves as Mick put his hand on his back to keep him moving towards the door.

A blonde waitress smiled at them as they walked in, thankfully not as soaked to the bone as Mick had originally began to think. They'd gotten inside under the safety of the roof before a major soaking could be done, which was great to think about because they'd be able to converse without that soggy discomfort burdening them.

She led them to the farthest seat at the end of the facility's seating range that was farthest from the entrance.

They sat across from each other, a vast menu being displayed in front of their eyes.

Mick ordered a simple cheeseburger and a side of fries because he didn't know what else to choose, Joey having a greater struggle than him, surely. 

Joey simply stared at the options available to him, nothing seemingly of interest or looking as if it would actually stay down in his stomach. He looked uneasy and overwhelmingly uncomfortable at the current pressures. He couldn't do it right now. "I'm sorry..." He murmured, and that was enough for Mick to step in.

Mick piped in and ordered for him, "He'll just have a burger too. But a side salad instead. Also, can he have a fruit punch?"

Joey kept his head lowered the entire time.

She was off then, to retrieve the food after the short transaction.

It was terribly quiet now.

There were the small sounds and background noises of the insides of the restaurant such as soft voices and the clinking of plates and glasses, but it was not enough to drown out the silence the two shared.

Mick didn't know how to approach this topic now.

Joey's hands were on the table, fingers entwined together patiently. He stared at anything that was not Mick.

The conversation had to come sometime, it was best if it was now than later, or even never.

"Joey..." His large hand reached forward to rest on Joey's, covering the other male's small hands entirely in his own.

His eyes flicked up towards him, his head still tilted downwards at the table. 

"Do you see the problem now...?"

He thought for a second before shaking his head as a way to dismiss the question.

"You do realize that it all boils down to him forcing himself onto you, right...?"

He closed his eyes as if deep in thought.

It was a make it or break it move now. He had to choose his words wisely.

"Please, Joey. Tell me what's happening."

Joey's eyebrows pressed together slightly and rigidly as he inhaled through his mouth shakily.

"I never wanted to hurt you, okay...? Just..." Mick said as softly as possible, "Tell me what is going on. Don't lie to me."

Joey opened his eyes, blinked and peered down at the table. "It's none of your business."

Mick's heart dropped in his chest. He resisted the urge to tighten his hand to grip Joey's. "What do you mean, it's none of my business?"

"It's exactly what it's supposed to mean," Joey hissed back at him and tried to pull his hands away, but Mick locked his down before he could slip away. 

"You think I'll just brush what I've seen throughout the years off like it means nothing to me, Joey?" He tried to keep his voice as low as possible so that nobody could eavesdrop and intervene, but it was so fucking hard. Mick couldn't believe what he was hearing. "After all this time- especially after what I had to witness today?"

"Just forget about it, you big idiot," Joey whispered harshly and attempted to pry his hands away once more, to no avail. "It didn't concern you and it never did."

"How am I supposed to forget about it when I'm already this deep into the problem?" Mick snapped back immediately. 

Joey was bothered by the persistence Mick held at the issue and demonstrated this by sighing, "It was your fault, you meddled your head into it and you just made it worse."

"I stopped him from practically raping you for all eyes to see and I wish I've done it sooner, did I make it worse by preventing him from doing even more damage?" Mick stated bluntly and stared daggers into Joey's dim blue orbs.

"...You didn't have to."

"But I did. Do you just expect me to watch you get hurt...?"

"Why are you even fucking trying?" Joey spat, anger eminent in his tone of voice.

Mick responded, "Why are you not?"

"Y'know, I didn't ask you to come back in my life, Mick!" Joey now raised his voice a few levels, snapping back as his voice cracked drastically.

It was silent and Mick watched the tears in Joey's eyes threaten to drip.

Mick shamefully bowed his head for a moment before bringing it back up to look at Joey yet again, a softer gaze than before where his blood boiled and his fuses uncontrollably thrashed within himself.

His thumbs now gently caressed Joey's white knuckles, brushing them against his hands as a way to calm him down, in a way.

Joey only shook in his seat.

As soon as they'd stopped, the waitress quietly brought their food and settled it down onto the table as if she'd been waiting for them to calm down since they'd began.

Joey emptily stared at the small meal displayed in front of him.

Mick sighed and mentally scolded himself for fucking this up so soon. He reached for his burger and unwrapped it slowly. "Please eat, Joey..."

He simply nodded now, surprisingly tame after what had just conspired. 

Mick feared that it was because he just wanted him to shut up so he did as he was told.

He tried not to think about it.

They dove into a void of silence once more.

Mick chomped his food down in a matter of minutes while Joey on the other hand, had only been picking at his food and swirling his fork in the greens of the salad. 

He supposed it was time for the old trick. 

Reaching over the table and onto Joey's side, he reached for Joey's still completely wrapped burger, stole it, and began to unravel the paper.

"Hey!" Joey retaliated and snapped his arm up to grab the burger from Mick's hands.

"What?" Mick playfully teased, "It was gonna rot if it stood there another minute."

Joey huffed and took a big bite of the food whilst glaring at Mick in a playful manner. He eased up the slightest at the old trick that Joey now realized Mick had just used to get him to eat.

Mick's pleased smile made Joey want to smile, but he hid it behind the burger.

Once it had touched Joey's tongue, he immediately felt the hunger cravings kick in after being deprived of a proper meal in so long. He rapidly wolfed it down, the salad going in a flash as well. 

He sat there, actually managing to keep the food in his stomach, which was wonderful for the both of them.

Mick sat there as he waited patiently for Joey to adjust to this setting.

It wasn't long before Joey had taken the responsibility of speaking first. "So..."

He hummed in response.

"About Corey..."

It was quiet. Mick was patient.

"Nobody... Nobody cares for me like Corey does. Never did," murmured Joey under his breath as he picked up one of Mick's donated fries to pop it in his mouth. 

Mick knew that it wasn't true, but instead of interrupting, he allowed Joey to speak his mind.

"He was the first person to treat me with love... Actual love... And he didn't care about what anybody thought of our relationship."

Mick nodded.

"It's been so hard before I met him. With him, I feel like I can be more than I ever was and could be without him." Joey's eyes lowered. "And I just..."

He now said as gently as possible, "You want him to feel the same...?"

Joey's eyes flashed into his at the sudden accurate response, but he looked back down at the table's edge silently. 

"I'm just what a camera sees when its out of focus. Not one person on this earth made me the center of their attention or anything... I just feel so invisible."

Mick mentally shook his head at that.

"I just feel so alone... So fucking... Deserted..."

Joey took recognition of his rambling and stopped in the middle of his sentence. 

Mick took this opportunity of Joey's pause to slip his thoughts into the conversation. "I'm here for you, Joey. I always have been."

"I... I know..."

"You just have to be open with me so that I can help you."

Joey appeared uneasy once more. 

"I love him," Joey claimed.

Mick only raised his eyebrows doubtfully.

A pause was necessary.

"... He hasn't been the same. Since... I can't remember when." Joey now stared at the floor with his head drooped on chains. "He's been so... Vile towards me. For a very long time and I... I hate it so much."

Joey had finally broken under pressure. He spilled his guts.

The guitarist sighed and slowly reached his hand out to touch Joey's, whos nails were close to digging into the surface of the table.

"When nobody's around, he..."

Mick closed his eyes. 

"He does hit me... And... Does shit I really didn't fucking ask for, you know... Like... What happened with... What you saw..." Joey's voice broke and was now a fragile whisper.

"Corey has heavy hands..." 

Mick's grip on Joey's hand tightened.

Has he ever controlled his anger so well before in such management? He wanted to flip this fucking table, stalk his way to the hotels, kick down Corey's fucking door and pummel him until his nose is so clogged with blood that he cannot breathe.

He knew it.

Fuck.

He knew it all along.

"Please... Don't hurt him... " Joey pleaded as he stared up at him with apprehension in his wide, vulnerable eyes.

Fuck. "He's taking advantage of you and he has been doing it since day one... You're so small, vulnerable and he's successfully broken you down until you can't fight back anymore, Joey..." Mick muttered in a low, furious growl that would shake the bones of anybody that it was directed viciously against.

The drummer had been shaking in his seat, his hand twitching and shivering under Mick's loving grasp. Probably at the newfound realization of all of this hitting the fan at once.

"I won't... I won't touch him."

Joey released the pent up breath in his lungs now and exhaled softly.

He would tell Joey that he had to stand up for himself and put his feet down, but he now was educated about the severances of the situation at hand and decided that Corey would  
not hesitate to fight fire with fire if Joey showed any signs of resistance.

"If he does any fucked up shit to you... Promise me that you'll let me know."

Joey's eyes watered.

"I need to know, I'm sick of sitting back and doing nothing."

Until tears were now pouring.

"I really do care about you, even if you don't see it that way."

Joey sniffled softly and wiped his tears away.

They sat there for what seemed like ages, staring out the window, lost in their own thoughts and feelings.

This was all just one jumbled mess, but Mick wished to do his best to sort it out for the sake of Joey's sanity.

After many long moments passed, Mick spoke up.

"Still hungry?"

Joey reacted and murmured, "No..."

"Do you feel ready to leave now?" 

The black haired drummer nodded and scooted his way off of the seat, Mick's jacket now fully draped on the smaller man. It looked way too huge on his tiny build, it was quite cute in Mick's eyes. Joey pushed the hair out of his face.

Mick stood as well, but as soon as he had gotten back non his feet, Joey launched himself onto him into a warm and sudden embrace that Mick did not expect. 

He opened his arms welcomingly for Joey though and hugged him right back, petting his hair.

Joey had never held onto him tighter.

Perhaps Joey really did need to get all of that weight pushed off of his shoulders and onto Mick's. He didn't mind it at all.

After Joey had felt comfortable enough to release, Mick kindly hummed, "Let's go, Jo," left the money to pay the bill on the table and walked outside, contempt.

The rain had far ceased, now only a light tinkle of droplets fell in a wave with the wind. It sprinkled onto their faces that had been warmed from the comfort of the heated restaurant.

Joey walked beside Mick closely.

The hotel was very close, so the walk was easy on the legs. Maybe a block or two away?

It was nice. The cool breeze lifted their hair into the wind to flow.

When they'd finally gotten to their destination, the trip in the elevator was short lived and quick.

It seemed like nobody had gotten back yet. The hall was completely empty and devoid of any sort of interaction. 

The hallway held a pleasant orange glow of illumination from the hotel's lighting, a definite contrast compared to the previously strikingly white lights of the restaurant and the darkness of the sidewalks despite the traffic lights and such. It was relaxing on the eyes.

"Who's room are you in, again?" Mick asked.

"With Corey."

"Ah..."

They approached the room that Corey and Joey shared together the previous nights. Mick looked at Joey expectantly.

Joey fisted through his pockets and found no keycard. "I don't have it..."

"Did you lose it?"

"No... Corey holds onto it for me because he wants to keep track of me and where I am, all that stuff."

Mick sighed and thought that he should've expected this to happen.

"I forgot that he had it..." whispered Joey guiltily.

"It's fine," Mick countered with a solution, "want to just sleep in my room for tonight? At least you don't have to encounter him so soon when he returns."

"You're right, Mick. And sure, it's better with you than with Chris. He snores way too loud."

"I can agree with you there." 

Mick used his own specific keycard to unlock his door and it slid right open.

Sharing a room with Joey wasn't something to get riled up about back then. But now- it was different and new and out of the ordinary. 

Corey was extremely protective over Joey. Imagine the uproar this would cause.

Mick did not care at this point.

He imagined it, knowing what would possibly happen if word got out even about the change in Joey sleeping in any other room that wasn't where Corey could watch him like a hawk.

 

He full well knew the consequences and walked right in as Joey followed in pursuit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to write a past Mick/Joey based off of Joey's Sinclair's times and all that jazz, basically everything Mick had described about their past. I'm thinking of Mick/Joey but I also think it'd be perfect with Corey/Joey as well. ;w; <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, if you enjoyed this, please leave feedback! If I know there's some people out there who liked this fic, I'll: write more of this pairing/continue it/maybe extend the story/try to publish frequently, etc. etc. !! <3 <3  
> Drop kudos if you'd like to see more! <3


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